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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639781">Lights Out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violarm/pseuds/Violarm'>Violarm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Carnival, Detectives, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Pining, Scooby Doo References, Scooby Doo Style Mysteries &amp; Hijinks, Snark, Strong Female Characters, Teasing, Teen Romance, poc characters, sleuths</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:08:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violarm/pseuds/Violarm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, if you’re all like Mystery Incorporated, then is Caldwell Scooby Doo?" Milo asked.</p><p>Caldwell glared at him.</p><p>"Yes," said Leilani, "but Caldwell's more of a demonic chihuahua than a Great Dane. And he's nowhere near as helpful."</p><p> </p><p>Caldwell hated mysteries. He hated when Ophelia dragged him and his group of friends across town to investigate creepy graveyards, and he hated it when Ophelia called them all 'sleuths'. When she hauls them to a town called Derny to investigate a carnival, Caldwell is once again reminded why he hates everything to do with mysteries—especially if they are accompanied by a tall, curly-haired boy who won't stop laughing at him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Caldwell Wishes They Could Stay In Town</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is cross-posted on Wattpad under the same title, but I wanted to bring all my works into the same place and I refuse to post my fanfiction on Wattpad. I haven't hit rock bottom just yet. (No offense to fanfiction writers on WP.)</p><p>That being said, this work is completed, so if you'd rather read it in one go, it'll be under the username: LetThemSmellRoses. I'll be eternally grateful wherever you read it :)</p><p> </p><p>I apologise for any continuity errors/goofs/grammar mistakes/unrealistic elements, but honestly it's a Scooby Doo remix about kids at a carnival. It's not going to be a revised edition of On The Origin of Species. I've tried my best.</p><p>Enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was cross-posted on wattpad, but I'm transferring all my works here to be in one place because this is where all my fanfiction is posted, and (sorry to all fanfic writers on wattpad) I'm not writing fanfiction on wattpad. I haven't hit rock bottom just yet. </p><p>Enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Caldwell slammed his glass back onto the table surface. Strawberry milkshake sloshed over the rim and trailed down the side of the glass, coating his irritable fingers in the sticky liquid.</p><p>He angrily sucked his fingers clean, then turned to glare at the girl sitting opposite him in the cramped booth. He shook his head emphatically.</p><p>The girl had thin wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She shared an exasperated look with the other girl beside her. Probably out of false solidarity, Caldwell knew; Ophelia Johnson didn’t simply ‘share looks’ with people—everything she did was for a reason, and you could bet your whole family and the household cat that she had thought it out in excruciating detail beforehand. Caldwell was once fooled by her friendly manner, too.</p><p>“I’m busy!”</p><p>She looked at him disbelievingly.</p><p>“I’ve got plans. With people. All summer.”</p><p>Ophelia glared openly at the spot directly next to his left eye, where there were three moles falling off his eyelid onto his cheek.</p><p>“It won’t take all summer,” she snapped. Her metallic gold glasses slid further down her nose. “Probably. And anyway, you love it when the adrenaline kicks in.” She cut off his sharp protests.</p><p>Caldwell took a large, angry slurp of his milkshake. “That,” he said through a mouthful of milkshake, “is the part I try to avoid. Fergus,” he elbowed the taller boy sitting beside him in the booth, “tell her that running-for-our-lives is not the best part.”</p><p>Ophelia sipped pacifyingly at her own milkshake. It was vanilla because you are what you eat. It could be said that Caldwell was still nursing a grudge from the last time she nearly got him killed. Which was deserved.</p><p>“It’s you who chooses flight over fight, <em>clearly</em>, since I don’t make a habit of running from my problems…”</p><p>“You create the problem in the first place, dragging us all to dodgy places with dodgy people! I just want to spend my summer before the last year of school peacefully.”</p><p>“Cal, please.” She had both hands wrapped around her glass, and was leaning forward beseechingly. “We can just take a look at what Jason told me about, and then be on our way.”</p><p>The problem with Ophelia was that she was very persuasive. And not even in the ethical way: if she wanted something badly enough, she’d burn down the world and sift through the ashes until she found what she was searching for. Caldwell had told her no before about going to a scary place and hunting around for stuff, but that night he’d awoken to a flashlight beaming directly into his soul, in the middle of a graveyard. He still didn’t know how a girl of her size had managed to carry him out of his bed and into her car without waking him up.</p><p>“Witchcraft,” he’d told Leilani, another of their friends. “That’s how she did it.”</p><p>Leilani snorted at the same time she took a drag of her cigarette. “You’re tiny. All she would have to do is sling you over her shoulder like a bartender with a tea towel.”</p><p>He wasn’t. And he was taller than both Leilani and Ophelia, so she was one to talk.</p><p>Anyway, what Ophelia wanted, Ophelia got.</p><p>He sighed heavily, deeply, like his grandfather did when he caught Caldwell setting off homemade bombs in the backyard.</p><p>“What exactly did Jason tell you this time?” He nursed his sorrow with another swig of his dwindling supply of strawberry milkshake.</p><p>Ophelia flung herself into recounting the story her older brother had told her that morning. Emphasis on story, because that’s exactly what Caldwell thought it was: fiction.</p><p>“—and he said that all the lights go off every night without fail. They eventually turn back on, but don’t you think it’s a little weird how it happens every night? And then people carry on as normal, because it’s accepted to be normal now, which—”</p><p>“…Is far from normal but still has an explanation, we know,” Leilani finished. She hadn’t spoken until now, cooped up in the corner of the booth and staring at the grotesque paintings littering the walls of the diner.</p><p>The diner was brightly decorated with pink booths, tables and walls. It had splashes of yellow and white dotted around—presumably to even out the overload of other colours (or colour)—and featured as a popular hangout for kids after school. Now, it was the start of summer and the place was heaving with fifty percent of Maude’s 18-and-under population.</p><p>“What do you think, Cal?” Ophelia fixed him with an expectant expression. “Normal or weird? And don’t give me that crap about how it’s none of our business and we should just go see a movie or something.”</p><p>He did want to see that new film about pirates.</p><p>“Normal,” he said, because he liked to see the world burn. Fergus nudged him none too gently.</p><p>“You think it’s normal how an entire carnival blacks out every night for a minute or so and nobody has said anything about it?” Leilani had an air of superiority about her, like the smoke that wafted about her body constantly.</p><p>Ophelia sat back in her seat; milkshake abandoned. “It’s weird; definitely, gloriously weird. We’ll take Misty and check it out next week.”</p><p>Leilani dipped a fry into the remains of Caldwell’s milkshake. “Why next week?”</p><p>“We’ll need to sort out an inn or something to stay over at. The carnival’s two hours away, and I don’t want to waste time driving back and forth.” She flashed a smile at them. “In the meantime, we can research the town where the carnival is at the moment, the carnival itself, and anything else we can find out. Capishe?”</p><p>“Ca-piss off,” Caldwell muttered grumpily. He hated this kind of thing. He hated mysteries and spookiness and investigations. There were a lot of things he hated, but those were the top three.</p><p>Fergus stood up. “I’m getting more fries. Oh, hey Alby.”</p><p>Alby was a tall, blond boy who looked more like he belonged on the top deck of a yacht than hovering awkwardly over their small booth. He wore Topsiders and a vivid blue polo shirt that matched his eyes and gave Caldwell a headache.</p><p>“Alby! Thank goodness you’re here. We’re back in the game,” said Ophelia excitedly. “Isn’t that brilliant? My brother told me about this mystery in Derny and we’re checking it out.”</p><p>Alby, to give credit where credit was due, took it like a champ. “I thought we were going to the waterpark. You said we were going to the waterpark.”</p><p>“After. Right now, we’re going to research the town’s history regarding abnormal activity.”</p><p>“She keeps saying ‘we’,” Fergus muttered, then left to get his fries. At least he was treating this situation with caution. He was Caldwell’s best friend for a reason.</p><p>Leilani had her phone out on the pink chequered tablecloth; her, Ophelia and Alby crowded around the small screen.</p><p>She made interested sounds as she swiped with her index finger. “There. Something about politics.”</p><p>Alby peered at where she was pointing. “That’s talking about the mayor elections.”</p><p>“Politics is always dodgy,” Ophelia agreed. She tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Does it say anything about whether people were upset about the recent mayor’s election?”</p><p>Silence, in which Caldwell studied the lines of the tablecloth.</p><p>“No,” said Alby. He sounded frustrated. “It keeps going on about the local flower shows Derny hosts.”</p><p>“That is suspicious,” Caldwell agreed. “Who looks at the exact same flowers for days in a row <em>voluntarily</em>.”</p><p>“Lots of people,” Leilani said. “Maybe the shows are a front for something.”</p><p>Ophelia considered her thoughtfully. “The shows have gone on for decades, though, and the lights only seem to only go out when the carnival opens for the holidays. It makes me think it has something more to do with the carnival itself, than Derny.”</p><p>Fergus appeared with his fries. He slid in beside Caldwell, who snuck a fry from the carton.</p><p>“Julie says hi,” he told Caldwell, who nearly snapped his neck when he whipped around in the booth to stare at the serving counter.</p><p>Julie had been his girlfriend, for the month they dated before school broke up for the holidays.</p><p>He grumbled, “Julie always says hi. That’s the problem.” Because when Julie said hi, she really meant fuck you, and she meant fuck you to Caldwell because he had dumped her over text with no warning.</p><p>“She’s psychotic. Where is she?”</p><p>Fergus chewed and swallowed. “She left already. With some guy.”</p><p>Leilani smirked. “She moves fast for someone who’s still heartbroken.”</p><p>“Look,” said Ophelia, and they looked.</p><p>She waved the phone screen at them. “I searched the carnival and loads of other things came up—unimportant—but then I clicked carnivals in this area, and it says stuff about who runs it and how long it’s staying for.” She clapped her hands and in doing so dropped the phone.</p><p>Leilani glared at her and rescued her phone from the milkshake puddle Caldwell had made on the table.</p><p>“And?” prompted Alby.</p><p>Ophelia drummed a finger on the table. “It’s been owned by the Czechowski family for the last hundred years, being passed down from generation to generation. This website states that the Czechowski family doesn’t like media attention, so haven’t given any interviews about the carnival or themselves. Most of the publicity has come from word-of-mouth and people posting on blogs.”</p><p>Fergus snorted. “They’re like Gatsby. No one knows them but everyone’s heard of them.”</p><p>“Way to make it creepy,” Caldwell groaned. “Gatsby snuffs it at the end.”</p><p>Everyone looked at him.</p><p>“I read,” he said, blowing tendrils of fair hair out of his eyes.</p><p>He read when he wanted to ignore them, which was a lot of the time. When Ophelia hauled them to strange places, he sat in silent protest in the backseat of her beaten up car and read the classics on his phone. Some may call it a passive protest, he called it ‘let’s see how much I can annoy Ophelia before she whacks me with the torch she carries around in her handbag’.</p><p>“—go back to my place and we can hook the phone up to the big screen to have a better look,” Alby was saying.</p><p>They stood to go, Fergus gathering all their glasses in a neat pile in the centre of the table.</p><p>He was always doing things like that: tidying up after them. He’d grown up in the system, passed from foster home to foster home- never at <em>home</em> and never at ease.</p><p>“I want candy,” Caldwell announced, as they left the diner and walked out into the carpark. Sunlight streamed onto the tarmac. It glinted off Ophelia’s glasses, shone through strands of Leilani’s dark hair.</p><p>Leilani groaned. “Come <em>on</em>, we need to go through the website.”</p><p>Which was strange, because Leilani always had room for food, and maybe she was just sucking up to Ophelia because well why not everyone did and it was super annoying and he just wanted some starbursts—</p><p>“Fine! But be quick,” Ophelia snapped, heading for her scrappy little car. It was parked between two others, but so, so gaudy it could probably be picked up from outer space. Whoever decided on colouring a car yellow, Caldwell thought, should be tied to the very car they painted and dragged behind it for a mile.</p><p>He started for the convenience store across the carpark. It was extremely white compared to the diner opposite it, which resembled intestines and other bodily organs more than the permanent Valentine’s look it had going on.</p><p>The door to the store opened automatically, and a cheery little bell jangled as he stepped out of the heat.</p><p>Heaven.</p><p>That was his first thought when he positioned himself in front of the looming shelves of candy and chocolate.</p><p>The second bordered on unrepeatable, due to the sheer number of curses it contained.</p><p>“Caldwell,” said Julie. Her red hair was gathered in a complicated knot at the top of her head, wavy strands falling out everywhere. Somehow it looked good.</p><p>“Bitch,” he replied, under his breath. He gave her an incredibly beaming, incredibly false smile.</p><p>She didn’t return it.</p><p>“What are you doing here? Surely you’d be out with your little gang solving mysteries and digging up dead people.”</p><p>Caldwell scowled irritably. “That was one time,” he folded his arms across his chest, “and if I remember correctly, it was you who insisted I always join them instead of hanging out with you.”</p><p>“I did nothing of the sort. You wouldn’t know commitment if it bit you on your scrawny ass.”</p><p>He made an exasperated noise at the back of his throat. “And your idea of commitment is messing around with some dude while I was suffering in a graveyard.” It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“Caldwell—" she began, brown eyes wide and framed with black eyeliner.</p><p>He grabbed the nearest packet of candy off the shelf and stormed to the cashier’s.</p><p>Julie didn’t follow him out of the store, which was honestly a blessing because he really wanted to throw hands. He wanted to throw more than hands when Ophelia tooted the horn and drove up to the entrance of the convenience store.</p><p>He bit back a million insults and slid into the back seat of the car. It was also yellow, but slightly more muted than the sunshiney exterior. Of course, it was.</p><p>Alby stared at Caldwell’s lap. “I thought you were getting candy.”</p><p>Caldwell frowned at him, then down at his lap.</p><p>Wafers. Pink wafers.</p><p>“Aargh,” he yelled, and threw them across the car to hit Fergus in the back of the head.</p><p>“Watch it.” Ophelia glared at him in the rear-view mirror. “I’m driving.”</p><p>He couldn’t eat them.</p><p>Leilani snickered from her position behind the front passenger seat. She accepted the packet Fergus handed to her and ripped it open. “My favourite. How thoughtful of you, Caldwell.”</p><p>He slunk in his seat. “I wanted Starbursts.”</p><p>Alby shifted, and his shirt rustled. “Do you need glasses, dude?”</p><p>Caldwell grit out a, “I’m <em>fine</em>, thank you. I was in a hurry.”</p><p>The sounds of Leilani’s chewing filled the car.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were so eager to continue our investigation,” Ophelia crooned. She flicked her right indicator on. “I would have apologised for all the times I doubted your sincerity.”</p><p>The car made a smooth right turn onto Field’s Street.</p><p>“No, your doubt was justified,” Fergus told her. His voice was always louder when he spoke to Ophelia, like he wanted to make sure she heard him.</p><p>“Fergus! You’re meant to be on my side. We’ve always got each other’s backs when we search for clues.”</p><p>Fergus shrugged.</p><p>“It’s not exactly a secret.” Alby reached to pluck a wafer from the packet balanced on Leilani’s thigh. “You hate anything to do with sleuthing and mysteries.”</p><p>“Oh? What gave me away?” Caldwell asked, sarcastically.</p><p>Leilani chomped extra obnoxiously. “You have just as much fun when you get into it as the rest of us do.”</p><p>Fergus snorted.</p><p>She fixed him with a glare in his passenger’s visor mirror.</p><p>“As do you.”</p><p>Fergus snorted again. That’s why Caldwell loved him. They’d met in their second year of high school. Fergus had been relocated to Maude after his fifth disastrous foster home, and placed in the care of the Murphy’s, who were very knowledgeable on species of insects but not so much on young boys. Fergus had stayed, though.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Where are all your sisters, Alby?” Ophelia asked, as she followed him up the steps and through the front door. Alby’s house was…exciting. There were a thousand other words to describe it: fresh, eccentric, vitalising.</p><p>It felt like walking through a forest. Bamboo made up most of the furniture, ferns and vines climbing up the walls and brushing people with leaves as they passed. In some parts of the house, the walls disappeared completely, leaving one to feel like they were standing on a rope bridge surrounded by a tropical rainforest. These sections were doused when it rained, and moss grew over the planks of wood and bled into the rooms of the house.</p><p>Alby’s house had to violate at least ten building codes.</p><p>He led them down one of the narrow bridges and into the living room. “Ma took them to the water park for the day.”</p><p>He glanced sideways at Caldwell.</p><p>Caldwell was busy trying to not appear as awestruck as the first time he entered Alby’s house, eyes roaming the canvas canopy in place of a roof, the vines unfurling around the bamboo and brick walls. One side of the living room was all glass, which looked out onto the untamed wilderness of Alby’s back garden. </p><p>“I’ll get a cord,” Alby said eventually, and exited the room.</p><p>Not for the first time, Leilani and Caldwell shared amazed glances. It was a home and a jungle simultaneously.</p><p>“If you’re still hungry we have crackers in the kitchen. You want?” Alby said to Caldwell, re-entering the room with an iPhone cord dangled loosely in his fingers.</p><p>Caldwell nodded and set off for the kitchen, barely listening to Alby’s instructions of “left cupboard, second shelf.”</p><p>The kitchen was the most normal room of the house. It had been converted into something like a greenhouse, but all the walls were there and there was an oven, and a fridge and a sink made of hollowed crystal.</p><p>He opened the cupboard to find the crackers. One of Alby’s younger sisters was also a celiac, so there was no danger of Caldwell poisoning himself.</p><p>“I got some cheese as well,” he announced, walking back into the room with a plate piled with crackers, cheese and humous.</p><p>No one paid him any attention. Ophelia had hooked her phone up to the tv, and everyone was gathered around her, watching the screen.</p><p>Leilani huffed a frustrated breath. “You weren’t kidding about the fact they’re an incredibly private family. They don’t have any social media for this carnival. Public or private.”</p><p>“It is a bit weird,” Ophelia hummed, scrolling through the rather sparse blog page.</p><p>“Not really.” Caldwell settled himself and his plate on the rug in the middle of the room. It was fluffy and duck-egg blue. “Plenty of people don’t have Twitter or Insta.”</p><p>Leilani peered at him. “Don’t go all social justice warrior on us. It’s simply strange that they don’t publicise their business at all, yet it seems fairly well-known.”</p><p>Ophelia clicked onto another website. This one had a strong middle-aged mother vibe, with a section on healthy snacks for ‘your kiddie on the go’ and another on ‘cheap, fun day activities for the whole family’.</p><p>Alby peered at the tv screen. “Is that a picture?”</p><p>There was a blurry photograph—almost certainly taken in a moment of espionage—of the entrance of the carnival. In the foreground was a crowd of people, frozen in time. Behind them stretching up into the sky stood a Ferris wheel, metal glinting in the sunlight.</p><p>Ophelia tried to zoom in on the photograph but it stubbornly remained the same size. She glanced at the others. “I wonder who took it.”</p><p>Dipping a cracker into some of the humous, Caldwell examined the photograph. “Clearly not a professional. That’s probably how they got away with it.”</p><p>“The owner of the blog?” Fergus suggested, quietly.</p><p>“Perhaps. But I agree with Caldwell, it can’t have been someone with any ties to the media.”</p><p>“If it was, they should be fired.” Leilani reapplied lip gloss to her upper lip. “It’s not even taken straight. There’s no signage either. Nothing to indicate where or when it was taken.”</p><p>Ophelia scrolled to the bottom of the page, but no more photographs reappeared. She bookmarked the webpage and sat back with her hands balancing on the floor. “If this person’s managed to take a picture, there must be others who have.”</p><p>“I don’t really see why it matters,” Alby commented. His blond hair was mussed where he’d lain on the rug. “We’re going to see it for ourselves.”</p><p>“It would be helpful to have something to compare with what we see. To check if anything’s changed.”</p><p>Caldwell set his plate on the floor beside him. “I can’t wait to go on the Ferris wheel.”</p><p>Ophelia and Alby spluttered in indignation.</p><p>“We’re not going for <em>fun</em>,” Ophelia enunciated, saying the last word like a curse. “We’re going as sleuths.”</p><p>“Well then I’ll have fun while I sleuth. On the Ferris wheel.” Caldwell directed a sickly-sweet smile at her.</p><p>“I wouldn’t mind sleuthing around the shooting gallery,” was Leilani’s input.</p><p>Caldwell perked up. Things were starting to look up again: sure, they were doing the stupid mystery stuff again, but they usually did that in abandoned farm buildings, not lively carnivals.</p><p>Ophelia unhooked her phone from the tv and slid it into her back pocket. She stood up and glanced at everyone. “I’ll talk to my parents tonight and arrange the trip.”</p><p>Another thing about Ophelia was that she was filthy rich. Or her parents were. She funded all her crazy schemes, while the others chipped in with food or gas money.</p><p>“Let me know when to start packing,” said Leilani. “I need my best carnival outfit ready.”</p><p>Ophelia scoffed. “You always wear the same thing. Leather jacket, skimpy shirt, jeans.”</p><p>Leilani gasped. “Blasphemy.” She waved a finger up at Ophelia from her position sprawled on the floor. “Just you wait and see.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2.1: Blue Diamond Lodge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“I looked through ten different travel lodges before choosing,” said Ophelia. “And I didn’t even pick based on cost, Caldwell, so you can shut up. I’m not a skimp. We’re staying at the one closest to the carnival’s location.”</p>
<p>“That’s what she says,” Caldwell said to Leilani, “but she definitely picked the cheapest one. Just to spite us.”</p>
<p>Leilani snickered, shoving her bag into the boot of Ophelia’s car.</p>
<p>Ophelia adjusted her glasses thoughtfully. “What am I missing…hmm.” She tapped a finger on the list she held in her hands. She’d painted her fingernails a ruby red.</p>
<p>“Fergus,” Caldwell supplied, helpfully.</p>
<p>She fixed him with a long-suffering expression. “He’ll be here in a minute. Alby, did you pack the spare torches?”</p>
<p>Alby leaning around Leilani to put his own bag in the car, nodded. “And batteries. Just in case. Caldwell, can you move out the way.”</p>
<p>Caldwell huffed and walked over to Ophelia, peering over her shoulder at the list.</p>
<p>“You have sunscreen twice,” he pointed out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The list contained:</p><ul>
<li>Clothing</li>
<li>Toiletries</li>
<li>Torches</li>
<li>Money (in purse)</li>
<li>Travel lodge confirmation (email)</li>
<li>Water bottles</li>
<li>Snacks</li>
<li>Magnifying glass</li>
<li>Phone charger</li>
<li>Laptop</li>
</ul>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was going to bring a tape recorder, but thought we could just use our phones if we needed.” She blinked up at him. “What do you think?”</p>
<p>“We don’t usually use much else. We can get stuff in Derny if we have to.”</p>
<p>Ophelia noticed Leilani kicking her bag into the car for the first time. “Lani, stop that! Just push it in.”</p>
<p>Caldwell shared a grin with Leilani. “You’ll break your foot if you kick the car instead.”</p>
<p>“What if I kick your ass?” An impish expression stole over Leilani’s face.</p>
<p>He shook his head solemnly. “Never going to happen.”</p>
<p>They were gathered in their town, Maude’s, supermarket’s carpark. The sun hadn’t been in the sky long, and the air was still brisk from its evening slumber. The rising sun cast rays of light across the carpark which Caldwell stood in for some hint of warmth.</p>
<p>It was eight in the morning: Alby was walking around like a zombie, Leilani was still yawning, and Ophelia kept rubbing her eyes. Caldwell was fine. He loved mornings, loved the feeling of crisp air right before it lit up with fresh sunshine.</p>
<p>“In a few hours,” he told Leilani, “I’ll be up in the sky, waving my hands like this—” he demonstrated with his arms in the air— “screaming like this—”</p>
<p>“Don’t you dare,” said Leilani. Her hair was piled on top of her head. Her tanned skin was pale with sleep.</p>
<p>“—and having a whale of a time.” He ran a hand through his blond hair.</p>
<p>His excitement was contagious, though, because she was smiling brightly. This early in the morning the pinched look she sported when she craved nicotine hadn’t set in yet.</p>
<p>“We’ll be eating tubs—not sissy little sticks—of candy floss,” she continued, “winning all the stuffed toys at the stalls, hunting for clues.”</p>
<p>His smile dropped. “Don’t ruin it.”</p>
<p>Ophelia called over to them. “I hate to interrupt but can you guys help with the last bits of luggage, thank you.” She gestured to Alby to shut the boot after them.</p>
<p>She deposited the bag of snacks in the passenger seat and placed her water bottle beside the driver’s seat.</p>
<p>“My dad checked Misty for any problems, but he didn’t spot anything. I’ve filled the tank and cleaned the mirrors.” Ophelia clapped her hands excitedly. “I think we’re set.”</p>
<p>“We don’t have Fergus, Ophelia,” said Caldwell.</p>
<p>Alby waved suddenly. “We do,” he said, pointing across the carpark.</p>
<p>Fergus ambled over to the car, stumbling a little as his bag bumped against his legs.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” he panted. “I forgot which supermarket we were meeting at.”</p>
<p>Ophelia peered at him. “Maude’s only got one main supermarket.”</p>
<p>Fergus’s cheeks warmed.</p>
<p>“I’ll put your bag in the boot,” said Leilani, sweetly, moving to grab his sports bag.</p>
<p>Ophelia intercepted her and handed the bag to Alby. “You will not.”</p>
<p>Two minutes later they were on their way, Ophelia and Alby up front, Caldwell sandwiched between Fergus and Leilani in the back.</p>
<p>“It’s an ethnic sandwich,” he said, grinning as they both rolled their eyes. “Chinese,” he nudged Fergus, “and Hawaiian,” he gestured at Leilani.</p>
<p>“And a boring white filling,” Leilani muttered.</p>
<p>“I think Caldwell’s very nice-looking,” Fergus said, loyally.</p>
<p>Caldwell patted his arm in gratitude.</p>
<p>They passed Alby’s house on the way out of town. It never ceased to amaze Caldwell how different something could look on the outside compared to the inside.</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Ophelia. She passed her phone to Alby. “Search up Derny’s population.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Leilani asked, gazing out the window at houses as they whizzed past.</p>
<p>“The carnival has to have workers. Whether they’re local or not, they must stay somewhere. If we can get an idea of how the town’s structured, then we can get a feel for how the carnival operates.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, bad news.” Alby tapped the phone. “Derny has a population of over a hundred thousand. We won’t be getting a feel for anything with that number of people.”</p>
<p>“Surely, we should focus on the carnival itself, like the people working there and everyone in positions of authority?”</p>
<p>Ophelia hummed, tapping the steering wheel. She glanced at Leilani in the rear-view mirror.</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s one of the first things we should do when we get in. That, and subtly ask the staff about what’s been happening.”</p>
<p>“We don’t even know if it’s a big deal,” Caldwell groaned. His vision of a nice visit to a carnival was rapidly disappearing in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>Ophelia stepped on the gas. “Not yet we don’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t like it,” Caldwell whined, shielding his eyes from the fierce sunlight with a miserable hand.</p>
<p>Fergus rubbed his arm comfortingly.</p>
<p>They stood in front of the travel lodge Ophelia had got them rooms at. It was a tall building, with white stone and olive-green vines looping around the entrance. The windows were set back in the stone like sunken eyes in a gaunt face, paint peeling at the edges of the panes.</p>
<p>A gust of air wafted through the dusty courtyard, rustling the ivory and colliding against the crumbling walls. The cobblestones of the courtyard were interspersed with weeds and dandelions, creating a haphazard path to the front door.</p>
<p>“It feels forgotten,” Ophelia whispered. She was clutching her bag in one hand and her phone in the other.</p>
<p>Leilani had no such qualms. “It’s rundown. But maybe the inside’s better.”</p>
<p>Caldwell sighed a sigh of resignation, aching and irritated. He’d been cramped between two warm bodies for just over two hours in a car that physically hurt him to look at and now he was standing in front of a building that looked like it was from the Old West. Actually, the whole town of Derny gave him cowboy and sheriff vibes. The roads were mostly dirt, the houses and buildings alternating between stone and concrete.</p>
<p>“You said Derny had over a hundred-thousand inhabitants?” Leilani turned to Alby doubtfully. “It looks like a mix between a Greek villa and where someone would squeak the floorboards of the saloon they just entered.”</p>
<p>Alby’s face featured a perplexed expression. “Yeah, it’s not very developed.”</p>
<p>“Or this century,” Caldwell added. He needed to get a hat on before his scalp fried like a fillet steak. That was one of the curses of having extremely blond hair.</p>
<p>Ophelia wiped a hand across her forehead. “The photographs on the website were slightly different. But, hey,” she smiled at them, “it looks mysterious.”</p>
<p>Leilani was sweating in her leather jacket, but she refused to take it off. “Don’t say the M word in front of Caldwell. He’ll have another of his hissy fits.”</p>
<p>He glared hotly at her. “I will not, and I do not!”</p>
<p>“Sure. Can we please continue this little meeting inside?”</p>
<p>Leilani strode for the door, converse against the backdrop of the ancient stone making a peculiar picture.</p>
<p>They followed her, Caldwell and Fergus with slight hesitance.</p>
<p>The lobby—if it could be called that—was shockingly cool. The stone walls surrounding them made Caldwell feel trapped, but the pleasant shade chased any lingering discomfort out of mind. There were blue wooden shutters on the windows and pillars of stone, each featuring pictures of the same family in different combinations.</p>
<p>“Please ring,” Fergus read quietly, holding up a little bell with a label on the handle.</p>
<p>The sound of the bell echoed off the pillars and continued down a narrow corridor off the lobby area.</p>
<p>“This is so not a travel lodge,” Leilani whispered to Caldwell. He nodded firmly. How had Ophelia found this place? Scrap that, it was Ophelia. She was an iron filing and anything remotely abnormal was the magnet she flung herself at.</p>
<p>Ophelia surveyed the room with a wondering expression. “This is amazing,” she said softly. The attraction was strong.</p>
<p>Caldwell was about to tell her exactly why it <em>wasn’t</em> amazing, with impressive gesturing when a short woman appeared from the corridor, wiping floury hands on an apron that had the same print as one of Caldwell’s mother’s china vases.</p>
<p>“Mrs Diamandis?” Ophelia adjusted her metal-rimmed glasses. “I have a booking for Ophelia Johnson.”</p>
<p>The woman’s wrinkled face morphed into a beaming smile, aimable and welcoming. It was elastic that had been stretched many times before.</p>
<p>“Miss Johnson, welcome! We’ve been expecting you.” She motioned to the desk where Fergus had found the bell. “Here, let’s sign you in and then get all of you settled in your rooms.”</p>
<p>She was a bustling, busy body of a woman, chatting incessantly as Ophelia checked their names on the register, and as they were led up a flight of stairs which were in dire need of a coat of paint.</p>
<p>By the time they reached the first of their two bedrooms, they all knew Mrs Diamandis ran the lodge with the help of her family—who were the people in all the photographs downstairs—minus her ‘scoundrel husband’ who ran off with one of the maids ten years ago.</p>
<p>“And that’s why we don’t hire external help,” she finished, stopping outside a blue door. “We manage just fine with the family pulling together. Anyway, this is one of the rooms, dears, and the other is just next to it. The one with the pink door, which my son and grandson painted a few months ago. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”</p>
<p>Mrs Diamandis hadn’t paused for breath since the lobby. She did so now, smoothing out her apron and a few strands of grey streaked hair.</p>
<p>“I’ll leave you to sort out the rooming situations yourselves,” she said finally, tucking her hands in apron pockets. She turned to Ophelia. “Will you be rooming with this young man, here?”</p>
<p>For a long second no one spoke, then they realised she was peering inquisitively at Alby. He blushed.</p>
<p>“Definitely not, Mam,” Alby said, only looking slightly nauseous. “I’m gay, so…”</p>
<p>“Just look at his outfit,” said Caldwell, helpfully. “That’s information enough.” Ophelia nudged him.</p>
<p> Mrs Diamandis appeared surprized for a moment, then patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, that’s fine dear. In fact, two of my grandchildren came out a year or so ago. Now Sophia’s got herself a pretty girlfriend. She even comes over to fix the chicken coop when one of my chickens gets aggressive with the mesh.”</p>
<p>Alby ducked his head. “Uh, that’s…lovely, Mrs Diamandis.”</p>
<p>Caldwell smirked at him. “Alby’s single, though. No one to nail his chicken coop.”</p>
<p>“So are you,” Alby snapped, cheeks flaming up.</p>
<p>“But I just got out of a relationship.” Caldwell grinned up at him.</p>
<p>Fergus cleared his throat and Mrs Diamandis started down the corridor. “If you need anything, I’ll be down in the kitchen. You know the way, don’t you?”</p>
<p>They did, and Ophelia smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Mam. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>Leilani turned the knob of the blue door and stepped into the floral-scented room. “Oh, this is cute, look at the patterned dresser. Ophelia and I are in this room.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” said Fergus. He glanced at Ophelia. “Where did Mrs Diamandis say was the extra mattress?”</p>
<p>Ophelia was staring out of the large window. “Under one of the beds,” she said, without turning around. “We should ask her about the carnival- see if she knows anything. Or perhaps one of the grandchildren. They might know someone who works there.”</p>
<p>Alby and Fergus left to put their bags in the boys’ bedroom.</p>
<p>“I’m having a nap,” Caldwell announced, before following them. The girls were too busy discussing what bits they had seen of Derny to try stop him.</p>
<p>The pink bedroom was just as fresh and comfortable when he entered, Fergus sprawled on top of the mattress and Alby kicking their bags under the bed closest to the wall.</p>
<p>Caldwell flopped onto a bed. “This place isn’t so bad,” he allowed, voice muffled by the duvet.</p>
<p>Fergus made a noise of agreement.</p>
<p>“Wonder when we’re leaving for the carnival.” Alby walked across the bedroom to place his phone charger and wallet on the dresser.</p>
<p>Caldwell made a shushing sound. “Just…stop talking about that for a minute dude…” He was out by the time he’d finished speaking.</p>
<p>Alby glanced at his unconscious form, then at Fergus in confusion. “Has he seriously fallen asleep?”</p>
<p>Stretching his arms above his head, Fergus shrugged.</p>
<p>“Ophelia’s gonna kill him.”</p>
<p>“Nahh.” Fergus let his arms fall to his side. “An hour or two won’t hurt.”</p>
<p>An hour or two would hurt, because this was Ophelia they were talking about, and she would die before anyone stopped her from investigating some supernatural occurrence.</p>
<p>“I’m also napping,” said Fergus. “Caldwell kept poking me when I tried to sleep in the car, the little brat. And he knows I have trouble sleeping—I only got, like, six hours last night.”</p>
<p>Alby settled on the other bed with his phone. He was wearing another of his polo shirts, but it drooped along with him in the heat.</p>
<p>The room was simply furnished, with two metal-framed beds, a wooden dresser and vanity and a painted stool. The walls were white, as were the covers on the beds. Caldwell had collapsed with his face in a pink blanket at the end of the bed, the blanket probably being how the room got its name- that, and the door.</p>
<p>“Leilani texted,” Alby commented, scrolling through his phone. “She said we’re going to hang here for a bit and then get some lunch.” He looked over at Fergus, who was dozing with his shoes hanging off the mattress. Even in sleep he was polite.</p>
<p>Alby went back to his phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Caldwell had managed to score the front seat of Misty. Leilani tried to roundhouse kick him out, but she only got the edge of the seat. He smirked at her and clung onto the headrest.</p>
<p>“Don’t play dirty,” he jeered, watching her face darken with annoyance.</p>
<p>She opened her mouth to hiss, “You shoved me out to steal the seat.” She had taken off her leather jacket and her Pink Floyd t-shirt was rumpled where he’d grabbed it for leverage.</p>
<p>“Now, now.” Caldwell shook his head at her. “Don’t be a sore loser, Leilani.”</p>
<p>“Whatever.” Leilani released her grip on his arm. “I need a smoke.”</p>
<p>She rifled through her trouser pocket and came out with a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.</p>
<p>Fergus popped his head around the driver’s seat. “You better not let Ophelia catch you smoking in her car. You know what she did to Aiden that one time.”</p>
<p>Aiden was a boy Ophelia had been seeing for a few weeks last year. Operative word being ‘had’. She’d caught him lighting a cigarette in Misty and had dumped him on the spot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told him to never,” she later told the others. They had been sprawled in her basement, Leilani and Fergus on either side of her, alternating between patting her hair and feeding her spoons of ice cream.</p>
<p>“I didn’t like him anyway,” said Caldwell. “He looked at me funny.”</p>
<p>Leilani scowled at him. “Stop making this about you.”</p>
<p>“I’m relating to her!” He gestured to Ophelia, who gave him a watery smile. “About how he was an all-round dick.”</p>
<p>Ophelia had taken off her glasses to swipe a hand under her olive eyes. “Thank you, Cal.”</p>
<p>He made a face at Leilani when she wasn’t looking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, Leilani snorted. “I’m not lighting it in the car,” she said, and leaned out of the passenger window.</p>
<p>“There’s no way she’s smoking the whole thing in that position.” Caldwell watched as she balanced half her body out of the car. “If you do, I’ll be impressed,” he told her.</p>
<p>Fergus’ stomach rumbled.</p>
<p>“Not to be overly needy or anything,” he said quietly, “but can we please go eat something?”</p>
<p>“We would—” Caldwell peered over to the entrance of the lodge, “—if Ophelia and Alby were here. Any of you know how to drive?”</p>
<p>Leilani sighed around a cloud of smoke. “You know we don’t.”</p>
<p>“I can half-drive,” said Fergus.</p>
<p>“If only that were good enough.” Caldwell leaned over the gear stick and honked the car horn. “That should get their blood circulating.”</p>
<p>In preparation for walking around a carnival for hours, he’d put on his comfiest converse, tied a hoodie around his waist (just in case) and put on the floral bucket hat his grandfather had given him.</p>
<p>When they’d arrived at the lodge, Ophelia had parked Misty in the space nearest the courtyard surrounding the lodge’s front door, taking up double the amount of space necessary and leaving all passenger doors unobstructed because she still didn’t trust them; even after all this time, and Caldwell would’ve been hurt if he didn’t remember the time he’d opened one of Misty’s doors onto a shopping trolley. He’d been so certain that would be the day he ceased his mortal reign.</p>
<p>“She’ll come running if I kick one of the car doors in.” He looked at Fergus and Leilani questioningly.</p>
<p>They firmly shook their heads, although Leilani mouthed, “Maybe.” He drooped like a wilted flower.</p>
<p>“There they are,” he grumbled from his sunken position in the front seat, when Ophelia and Alby finally appeared.</p>
<p>“You’ll never guess what we found out,” Ophelia announced, sliding into the driver’s seat excitedly. Her eyes were twinkling behind the wire frames of her glasses.</p>
<p>Caldwell lifted his head to peer apathetically at her. “I’m not saying what.”</p>
<p>“What?” asked Leilani because she was a little jerk and that’s what jerks do.</p>
<p>Ophelia started the engine, hardly checking whether Alby had got in the car. “We stopped to ask Mrs Diamandis a few questions, and after she’d quit going on about how her youngest grandchild loved the yellow horse on the merry-go-round best, she actually said some useful things.”</p>
<p>“She said she knows someone who works at the carnival,” continued Alby. “And that the power cuts that are happening only affect most of the town. So basically, only the general area where the carnival’s set up camp.”</p>
<p>The car turned onto a main road and headed for the diner they’d spotted when they’d first arrived.</p>
<p>“We didn’t get the name of the person she knows, but it’s something, right? My next idea is that we continue to ask the staff questions as we planned but refer to the locals or their families at the same time. That might make them feel more comfortable chatting to us.” Ophelia drummed a finger on the steering wheel. “It’s heating up gang!”</p>
<p>“I am as well,” said Caldwell, feeling his cheeks warm impossibly. “Can we put on the air conditioning?” Too late he remembered that it didn’t work, probably never worked, and would continue taunting him with a button on the dashboard that didn’t do anything until he took his last breath.</p>
<p>Ophelia afforded him a side-eyed glance. “Can you stop hyperventilating? It’s distracting me.”</p>
<p>“Did Mrs Diamandis say anything about the opening times of the carnival?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” She took a right turn. Caldwell shifted embarrassingly to the right, then regained his former position. “The gates open at three, and then close at eleven p.m. That gives us eight hours.”</p>
<p>“I’m not walking around for eight hours!” Caldwell yelped, horrified.</p>
<p>“But remember, Ophelia, the lights go out. That means it has to be dark enough for there to be lights on in the first place. It only gets dark around eightish, so maybe we can head down around then?”</p>
<p>Caldwell could have kissed Alby.</p>
<p>Ophelia hummed thoughtfully, then: “Nah, I think we go when it’s light so we can map out the place without any difficulty.”</p>
<p>Leilani stamped out the end of her cigarette in a tissue and put it in her pocket. “I definitely didn’t bring enough money for an eight-hour trip to a carnival.”</p>
<p>Ophelia waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s focus on getting food into our bodies for the time being.”</p>
<p>Fergus made a noise of assent.</p>
<p>She entered a small carpark and pulled up next to a building with a big red sign that said: Angie’s Diner.</p>
<p>“Thank goodness, thank goodness, thank goodness,” Fergus mumbled under his breath, hurtling out of the car and speeding up to the diner’s entrance.</p>
<p>Leilani observed him with some confusion. “He acts like he hasn’t eaten today.”</p>
<p>“He probably hasn’t,” Caldwell replied, falling into step beside her. “You know what the Murphys are like; they make weird stuff that he doesn’t like, so he just pretends he isn’t hungry.”</p>
<p>They entered the diner to soft music playing and searched for Fergus. He was sat at the furthest table, peeking over the booth and gesturing at them.</p>
<p>“Okay we have two hours until three o’clock,” Ophelia said, settling in the booth beside Fergus. He shifted slightly but she didn’t notice. “Plenty of time to go over last details.”</p>
<p>Leilani huffed. “We’ve milked that cow dry by now. We don’t have anything more to talk about.”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing wrong with being fully prepared.” Ophelia flipped through a menu. Fergus peered over and she shifted it for him to see better.</p>
<p>They ordered: burgers for Alby, Fergus and Leilani, large fries for Caldwell, hash browns for Ophelia.</p>
<p>Caldwell tucked into his fries, occasionally leaning over the table to dip them into Fergus’ milkshake.</p>
<p>Fergus pouted across at him. “You have your own milkshake!”</p>
<p>“I don’t like the salty taste when I dip fries into it.” Caldwell took a large gulp from his glass.</p>
<p>Alby regarded him distastefully. “Why can’t you use a straw like everyone else on this planet?”</p>
<p>“I’m not like other girls.”</p>
<p>Leilani snickered. “No. You’re uglier.”</p>
<p>This was a prime example of a pot-kettle situation, but Caldwell wisely refrained from voicing that particular thought.</p>
<p>“I can get more in without a straw,” he told Alby, who rolled his eyes and sipped daintily on his iced tea.</p>
<p>Leilani chanted, “I’mnotabullyI’mnotabully,” under her breath, to which Caldwell thumped her in the arm.</p>
<p>This upset her milkshake which upended and spread across the table in a sticky puddle.</p>
<p>“Oh, Caldwell,” Ophelia sighed, grabbing her phone out of the way.</p>
<p>“Yes!” Leilani glared at him. Her cheeks were flushed on top of her tan, but that might have been from the heat. “Very much ‘Oh, Caldwell’!”</p>
<p>Alby nudged Caldwell’s glass in her direction. “Have the rest of his.”</p>
<p>“Strawberry tastes like ass.” She settled back in the booth, arms folded crossly.</p>
<p>This time it was Caldwell’s turn to glare. “It does <em>not</em>. You have an under-developed palette, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“At least I don’t have an under-developed di—”</p>
<p>Caldwell made a noise of outrage and clapped his hand over her mouth. “Lies and slander.”</p>
<p>She smirked around his hand.</p>
<p>Alby stood up. “I’ll get you another.”</p>
<p>Caldwell removed his hand. It was sticky with lip gloss.</p>
<p>“Could you please get more fries?” Fergus said after Alby’s retreating back.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna have to speak up,” Ophelia mumbled around the straw in her mouth.</p>
<p>He shifted in his seat, finally looking at Caldwell desperately with big eyes.</p>
<p>“Alby!” Caldwell hollered, making Ophelia jump. She rubbed where her straw had stabbed her in the mouth. “Order some more large fries.”</p>
<p>“Please,” Fergus mouthed, smiling happily.</p>
<p>“Please,” said Caldwell, and Alby nodded from the serving counter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter was a little too big so I've split it into two. That explains the awkward cut-off.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 2.2: Checker's Carnival; Or Caldwell Hates Sleuthing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The second half of chapter 2. Enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>“Okay,” Ophelia said excitedly. “Okay.”</p>
<p>“Aw, she’s roleplaying,” Leilani whispered to Caldwell. Her face morphed into surprize when he nodded.</p>
<p>“You understood that?”</p>
<p>He sighed heavily. “I do keep saying I read.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I thought you meant comics or manga. Not The Fault In Our Stars, you little softie.”</p>
<p> Caldwell shrugged, pulling on his cotton t-shirt in an effort to cool down.</p>
<p>Next thing he knew, Leilani was eagerly telling Ophelia and Fergus, who awwed at him sickeningly.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” he told Ophelia irritably. “Or I’ll ambush your investigation.”</p>
<p>She stopped immediately, but still sent him a cheeky grin. “I think it’s sweet. How aren’t all the ladies lining up for this cutie?”</p>
<p>“That’s what I keep saying!” He shook his head forlornly. “I could rock their world.”</p>
<p>Alby grimaced. “And…that’s why.”</p>
<p>They were heading back to the lodge to grab Ophelia’s ‘sleuth kit’, water bottles, and sunscreen. The sun was still high in the sky, lighting Misty up so she practically resembled a star in the sky.</p>
<p>“We’re literally riding in the sun,” Caldwell complained.</p>
<p>Ophelia spared him a sideways glance. “Figuratively. We’re figuratively riding in the sun. And it’s not that bad.”</p>
<p>“I’m literally dying.” He pulled his bucket hat further over his eyes.</p>
<p>“You’re <em>fig</em>—oh, never mind.” She rested her hands at the top of the steering wheel.</p>
<p>“He will be literally dying if he doesn’t shut up,” Leilani muttered to Alby in the back seat. “It’s hot enough without his whining.”</p>
<p>Alby nodded solemnly, occupied with fanning Fergus with a crumpled magazine he’d found under the driver’s seat. It was an issue of National Geographic, with a pair of panda bears on the cover.</p>
<p>“Everyone get your stuff and be back by Misty in ten minutes,” Ophelia said, pulling to a stop outside the lodge, in the same place she’d parked earlier. Creature of habit.</p>
<p>The courtyard was still badly in need of maintenance, but the dandelions growing around the cracks in the stone gave it a sense of serenity.</p>
<p>“Chop chop.” Ophelia pushed him the remaining feet to the front door.</p>
<p>They called out a succession of hellos to Mrs Diamandis, who waved cheerfully at them from her position on the stairs, dusting the banisters.</p>
<p>Caldwell fished a fresh t-shirt out of his bag and pulled it over his head, shoving his original shirt under the bed.</p>
<p>Alby watched him disapprovingly but didn’t say anything.</p>
<p>Within a few minutes they were all back in the car, Ophelia panting from running down the stairs with her kamo backpack. She’d filled it with what she called her ‘sleuthing equipment’, which was really random tools and objects she’d collected from the local hardware store.</p>
<p>“Candyfloss here we come!” Leilani cheered, jostling Fergus excitedly. He calmly removed her hand from his arm.</p>
<p>Alby peered at the directions Mrs Diamandis had scrawled onto a scrap of paper. “Left, Ophelia. Now!”</p>
<p>She huffed and slammed her indicator on. “Give me a little warning next time. I think I rode over the curb.”</p>
<p>“I’m getting blue candyfloss,” Leilani told Caldwell.</p>
<p>He considered this. “I’m getting pink. What about you, Fergus?”</p>
<p>Fergus rubbed a hand over his cheek. “Uh, pink. Maybe.”</p>
<p>Alby shifted in the front seat, polo shirt wrinkling around his waist. “I’d like bl—”</p>
<p>“Alby, pay attention to the directions!”</p>
<p>He frowned at Ophelia and turned forward in his seat sulkily.</p>
<p>“I’ll get you blue,” Caldwell promised him.</p>
<p>“That’s it.” Leilani pointed out her window. “With the big sign.”</p>
<p>“It’s hard to miss, actually.” Ophelia peered over the steering wheel. “Checker’s Carnival. See?” She manoeuvred around a parked Prius. “We’re already finding clues.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t call that a <em>clue</em>,” Caldwell said. It really was a big sign: chequered black and white background with the text in a large, blue bubble font. </p>
<p>Leilani dug into her pocket for a cigarette. “The graphic design is something. Not Vogue, but something.”</p>
<p>“Ugly,” Alby commented seriously.</p>
<p>“Imagine what it says about you,” said Caldwell. He unbuckled his seat belt and slid out of the car. The yellow seats had started to hurt his eyes.</p>
<p>Ophelia hoisted her backpack onto her back, and only stumbled slightly. She pulled a bucket hat out of the front pouch and stuck it on her head. It was navy, with the words ‘thinking cap’ on the front.</p>
<p>Caldwell privately thought his looked better.</p>
<p>They set off, Leilani and Ophelia leading at the front.</p>
<p>“What do you want to bet we don’t find anything?” Caldwell asked Fergus quietly.</p>
<p>Fergus’ mouth quirked into a small smile. It raised his cheeks and wrinkled his nose. “We don’t normally find much.”</p>
<p>“I’m not talking to random people,” Caldwell said, a little too loudly, because Ophelia turned mid-step to glare at him.</p>
<p>“Stranger danger?”</p>
<p>She waved a finger at him. “Don’t start, Cal. You’ve given your word that you’ll participate.”</p>
<p>Caldwell didn’t remember giving any such word, and he was about to tell her that in no uncertain terms when he caught movement in his peripheral vision.</p>
<p>A balloon stand was positioned at the entrance, under the black and white welcome sign. He lit up, nudging Fergus in its direction.</p>
<p>“Wha—” Fergus allowed himself to be veered to the right. “No, Caldwell. I don’t want one.”</p>
<p>They bought five balloons. Fergus got a yellow balloon filled with helium.</p>
<p>“Now,” said Ophelia bossily. They gathered in an inconspicuous circle. “Let’s search the grounds.”</p>
<p>“What’re we looking for?” asked Leilani. She was standing in Alby’s shadow, desperately seeking coolness.</p>
<p>“Anything, really.” Ophelia’s face was knit in concentration. Leilani and Caldwell exchanged bemused expressions. “Try and gather any info from people who’ve witnessed the power cut off first-hand.”</p>
<p>Alby nodded in understanding—with his back to the sunlight, loose hairs formed a halo around his head. “Cool. Anything else?”</p>
<p>She shifted the straps on her backpack. “Try to go under the radar. Don’t make it obvious you’re asking questions. Alright gang, let’s split up.”</p>
<p>Caldwell hated when she did that.</p>
<p>Ophelia pointed at Fergus. “You’re with me.” She’d learnt from experience that Fergus was prone to not doing any such investigations when they set out to sleuth, and by extension, that meant Caldwell went with her, too.</p>
<p>“Leilani. Alby. Meet back here in an hour and a half. Do you have a watch?”</p>
<p>Alby held up his right wrist. Leilani pointed to his wrist.</p>
<p>“Okay. See you later.” Ophelia waved cheerily and disappeared into the crowd.</p>
<p>Caldwell and Fergus hurried after her.</p>
<p>It seemed like everyone and their nan was out, which became particularly obvious when Caldwell had to grab onto Ophelia’s backpack to stop her wandering off and getting lost.</p>
<p>Bright colours assaulted Caldwell’s eyes. There was a stand selling popcorn to his left, and the smell wafted through the air, mixing with excited shouts and the sound of machinery whirring.</p>
<p>The rides themselves were violent oranges, greens and blues. There was a constant reminder of the main theme: black and white chequered horses on the merry-go-round, black and white wrappers on all the food and confectionary.</p>
<p>The first stall they tried, a cramped one with an overweight hairy man slumped behind the counter, was selling a range of cheap, plastic toys.</p>
<p>“You look a little too old for toy guns,” the man behind in the stall said, doubtfully, to Ophelia.</p>
<p>She gave him a winning smile. “It’s for my younger brother. He’s in the hall of mirrors,” she added, when he craned his neck around the side of the stall.</p>
<p>“So, Hammond,” she read his nametag. “How long have you been working here? If you don’t mind me asking.”</p>
<p>Hammond clearly minded, if the sour expression on his face was anything to go by. Caldwell could empathise, he didn’t like being interrogated, either.</p>
<p>Hammond grunted, “A couple years. Whenever it opens for the holidays.”</p>
<p>“Do you like it here? Or is it a weird working environment?”</p>
<p>He scowled suddenly, threateningly. “Why? Who’s asking?”</p>
<p>Caldwell couldn’t help but snort. He quickly covered it up with an incredibly shallow, false cough.</p>
<p>Ophelia plastered a winning smile on her face. The effect was somewhat hampered with the gun in her hand. It was plastic, but still. “I’m just curious, Hammond. Is it?”</p>
<p>He stood back in the stall, all semblance of tolerance vanished. “Will that be all, Mam? There are other customers to be served.” Which was a bald-faced lie, because no one was lining up to purchase plastic guns or binoculars. Shocking.</p>
<p>“But—” Ophelia began, loudly.</p>
<p>“Good day.” He nodded at them, once, and turned around.</p>
<p>Caldwell made it three feet from the stall before he doubled over with laughter.</p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” said Ophelia, curtly. “Laugh it up.”</p>
<p>“We didn’t even get the gun,” Fergus remarked, sorrowfully. “You left it on the counter.”</p>
<p>“It can only go up from here.” Ophelia surveyed the area around them. “Where should we try next?”</p>
<p>They tried ten more stalls, including a harassed woman in the employee issued black-and-white t-shirt, who looked ten seconds from a breakdown as little kids swarmed around her demanding custom balloons.</p>
<p>Ophelia was gradually growing increasingly frustrated. “Do they purposefully hire obtuse employees?”</p>
<p>Caldwell shrugged, bopping Fergus on the head with his balloon. “I’m getting hungry. It’s been over an hour.”</p>
<p>“We need to meet Leilani and Alby. Hopefully, they’ve had more luck than we have.”</p>
<p>Fergus pointed somewhere to Caldwell’s right. “Isn’t that them?”</p>
<p>Ophelia turned in the direction of his finger. Her eyes widened slightly in recognition. “Oh, they’re chatting to that guy running the stall. Let’s join them.”</p>
<p>She started off determinedly, Fergus trailing behind her.</p>
<p>The string on Caldwell’s balloon chose that moment to snap and began to rise into the air.</p>
<p>He yelped and leapt after it, fingers just grazing the string. It got caught in the light breeze, swaying across the open space between two rides.</p>
<p>He chased after it, almost upending a portly woman and her two children. He received a harsh scowl, which was duly ignored.</p>
<p>A particularly energetic leap resulted in the last vestiges of the string clutched in his sweaty hand, balloon safely in his grasp. He swiftly scrutinised the fair ground for any judging glances and made his way over to the stall his friends were gathered at.</p>
<p>“And you’re saying the Czechowski family have no idea why it happens either?” Ophelia was saying, a tall boy standing behind the counter of the stall.</p>
<p>The boy nodded. He had curly brown hair and brown eyes. “Mr Czechowski came around the whole carnival one time to ask us if we knew anything.”</p>
<p>His eyes landed on Caldwell, who had paused in his walk of shame behind Leilani’s shoulder. “Why were you asking, again?”</p>
<p>Ophelia hesitated, eyes darting around the group. Alby shrugged.</p>
<p>“We’re sleuths,” she said. “Amateurs, really.”</p>
<p>“Nothing about me is amateur,” Caldwell declared, loudly.</p>
<p>“Oh?” The tall boy glanced at him again. “Is there proof of that?”</p>
<p>Leilani sniggered. “He suffers from delusion. Do you know anything else…?”</p>
<p>“Milo,” he supplied. He braced his hands on the stall counter. “I don’t know much, but I agree with you lot that there’s something more going on.”</p>
<p>“Oh joy,” Caldwell muttered sourly. “You’re one of them.”</p>
<p>Ophelia waved him off. “Don’t listen to Caldwell, he doesn’t like mysteries and reminds us of it every two seconds.” She turned to Caldwell.</p>
<p>“If you’re not going to help, go off and chase your balloon.”</p>
<p>He made a noise of outrage, not liking how Milo observed him in amusement.</p>
<p>“I am helping! Don’t you think it’s suspicious how eager he is to help?”</p>
<p>Milo frowned slightly at him. “You were jumping around after a balloon just a few minutes ago. Is your judgement really that reliable?”</p>
<p>Caldwell hated him already. That stupid self-satisfaction and constant aura of amusement.</p>
<p>“This balloon cost muchos, checker boy—I wasn’t losing it.” He glared up at Milo from under the rim of his bucket hat. “And I’ve been part of this group much longer than you have, so don’t try replacing me.”</p>
<p>Milo grinned infuriatingly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He glanced sideways at Ophelia. “My break’s six-thirty to seven, if you want to meet me here?”</p>
<p>Caldwell couldn’t resist mumbling, “Which is going to be <em>so much</em>,” under his breath.</p>
<p>Using a hand to wipe a few stray hairs out of her face, Ophelia nodded vigorously.</p>
<p>Caldwell was suddenly struck with how stupid they must have looked; no wonder no one was willing to gossip about their employer to them. He and Ophelia were in bucket hats, Alby had his usual preppy yacht outfit on, Leilani had a cigarette tucked behind each ear, Fergus had his and Alby’s balloons tied to his wrists (which kept bumping him in the nose when he moved his hands.)</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Milo smoothly. His eyes rested on the top of Caldwell’s hat. “Well, now that that’s settled, can I get you any candyfloss?”</p>
<p>Fergus opened his mouth and Milo paused in confusion. “I’m sorry, man. Could you say that again?”</p>
<p>“He said he wants pink candyfloss,” Caldwell snapped.</p>
<p>Another grin slowly spread across Milo’s face, like that of the Cheshire cat. “I wasn’t asking <em>you</em>, Balloon boy.”</p>
<p>“Pink, please,” said Fergus, with a nervous glance at Caldwell, who looked like he was going to combust.</p>
<p>“Sure thing.” Milo winked and turned around in the stand. “Bucket?”</p>
<p>“Yes, please.” Fergus received the candyfloss happily and fished in his pocket for his wallet. Ophelia had got him his wallet with koi fish swimming across the material for his birthday earlier that year.</p>
<p>“You know,” Milo said suddenly, “you remind me of Beth March. Do you play the piano, by any chance?” He directed a friendly smile at Fergus.</p>
<p>Caldwell gaped at Milo for a second, before shutting his mouth abruptly.</p>
<p>Fergus’ cheeks warmed. “Caldwell told me that once, too. And I don’t, although I had lessons for two years.” When he was in an orphanage before being moved into foster care, he didn’t add.</p>
<p>Those were the most words Fergus had ever voluntarily spoken to someone out of his immediate acquaintance group.</p>
<p>“Cal, didn’t you say you wanted some?” Fergus peered at him confusedly, as Caldwell made to step away from the stand, out into the sun.</p>
<p>“No,” he gritted out. There was no way in literal hell he was handing over hard-earned cash to that smug bastard running the stall.</p>
<p>Leilani did what Leilani does best; she put in her six pence where absolutely no one was struggling financially. She liked to butt in. Constantly.</p>
<p>“You’ve been clamouring for candyfloss the whole day.” She snickered at his thunder-cloud expression. “What’s the matter with you now?” She glanced at Milo, who was doing an incredibly poor job of hiding his amusement. “He’s very temperamental.”</p>
<p>“You’ll learn to cope with it,” said Ophelia, receiving her own bucket of candyfloss. She’d gone for blue. “If you’re planning on sticking with us.”</p>
<p>Caldwell exploded. “Like hell he will! I’m not hungry anymore anyway. Let’s just go on the Dodge’ems.” He didn’t know why he was irritated. Apart from the usual ‘I hate mystery stuff’.</p>
<p>“Cal,” Ophelia said warningly, slipping her purse into her backpack. “I don’t know why you’re so flustered, but we’ll go on the Dodge’ems, okay?”</p>
<p>He nodded, scowling at Leilani when she sniggered again.</p>
<p>Fergus slipped his arm through Caldwell’s, gently leading him away. Alby, Leilani, and Ophelia broke off for the centre of the fairground, calling out goodbyes to Milo that, really, were way more enthusiastic than necessary.</p>
<p>Caldwell wanted to leave the stand as quickly as humanly possible. He’d reached four feet from the stall, when Milo suddenly called out.</p>
<p>“Caldwell!”</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, he whipped around.</p>
<p>Milo was holding out a bucket of candyfloss with a subdued expression on his face. It was still amusement but mixed with something else. “Here,” he lobbed it into Caldwell’s frozen hands, “take it. For free.”</p>
<p>“Uh.” Caldwell glanced at the candyfloss in his hands. “Thank. Thanks. Thank you.” He was sure his face was blood red.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome.” Milo rubbed the back of his neck. Metal glinted in his nose, and Caldwell absently noted that he had a nose ring in the left side of his nose. “It’s an apology. For winding you up. And for when I wind you up in the future, because when I first did it, I didn’t realise how addictive it would become.”</p>
<p>He smirked, then turned around to deal with the big candyfloss maker behind him. Caldwell was left spluttering.</p>
<p>“So,” Fergus spoke up quietly. “Dodge’ems?”</p>
<p>Caldwell nodded furiously.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are heating up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Boy Who Laughs And The Boy Who Punches (Mentally)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>When the sun had set eventually, casting long, ephemeral rays over the carnival rides and the exhausted faces of fair-goers, Ophelia had lit up—juxtaposing the evening darkness with her mega-kilowatt smile.</p>
<p>“Who’s ready for an action-packed night?” She announced, excitement leaking from every movement of her body.</p>
<p>Caldwell, who was sporting sunburn on the tip of his nose, struggled to match her in eagerness. He’d used a generous dollop of sunscreen before leaving the lodge, but apparently one application of the cream was poorly suited to battling the heat of a thousand suns. Speaking of heat, he directed a ferocious scowl in Ophelia’s direction.</p>
<p>Ophelia, twitching like two hundred volts had coursed through her body, ignored him. She dug out their torches from her backpack and handed them each one.</p>
<p>Caldwell received his with extremely bad grace. He’d been through enough similar scenarios to guess what would inevitably follow: he and Fergus would end up in tears due to the sheer nerve-wracking-ness, Leilani would find a million ways to scare the living daylights out of all of them, and Alby and Ophelia would form tunnel vision.</p>
<p>Not to mention they had a leech to report back to.</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Ophelia. “We’ll split up, as usual, and spread out across the carnival. When the lights go out, record the exact time and location you are when it happens. And anything else that strikes you as important.”</p>
<p>Alby nodded solemnly. “Should we note who’s around us at the time?”</p>
<p>She stood up from fiddling with her backpack. “Couldn’t hurt. Also make sure you get the time the lights are out for. Milo said it’s a minute but record it in case.”</p>
<p>Caldwell couldn’t help the flare of his nostrils.</p>
<p>“Why can’t we sit in the car and do this?” he said grumpily. “We’ll still see the lights go out. And it’s more comfortable.”</p>
<p>“We aren’t here for <em>comfort</em>,” Ophelia replied, shocked.</p>
<p>Clearly.</p>
<p>That was why they had been walking around for the better part of six hours.</p>
<p>“Caldwell, we really do need to be in the midst of the action.” Alby folded his arms, but it was hard to make out in the flickering lights of the rides.</p>
<p>“I keep saying the use of ‘we’ is too strong,” Caldwell muttered to Fergus. Fergus made a miserable noise of agreement.</p>
<p>“Stay with me, bud.” Caldwell slung a comforting arm around his shoulders. His hand got caught in something and he shone his torch at his friend. Fergus still had the balloons from earlier tied to his wrists.</p>
<p>He shook himself loose and turned to Ophelia. “What if we run into trouble?”</p>
<p>She scoffed. “That’s hardly going to happen. We’re at a carnival, not a drug cartel.” She paused at the look on his face. “You have your phones, don’t you? Call someone.”</p>
<p>Caldwell wanted to tell her that a <em>phone call</em> wasn’t going to do much if his throat was at knife edge, and his hands bound behind his back. “I’m starting to think you haven’t gone over the finer details of this plan.”</p>
<p>“If by finer details you mean locate our escape route- which is through the entrance gates, like any normal people- then yes, I have.”</p>
<p>Murder was wrong, he thought firmly. Murder was decidedly, extremely wrong and he would be thrown into prison like the dismembered chicken into the crocodile enclosure he’d seen at the zoo his parents had taken him to when he was seven.</p>
<p>“I think this will be fun,” Leilani commented, back from prowling in the shadows around several stalls. “I have a masterful plan to sneak around the carnival when the lights go out.”</p>
<p>Fergus considered her carefully. “You don’t need to sneak. It will be pitch-black; you can just walk.”</p>
<p>Leilani sneered at him. “And that’s why I’m a better sleuth than you, Fergus.”</p>
<p>He shrugged, innocently. “I don’t doubt that.”</p>
<p>“She’s a better stupid sleuth,” Caldwell mumbled in Fergus’s ear.</p>
<p>“That doesn’t make sense,” Fergus said, but a smile was playing around his mouth.</p>
<p>The music playing over the speakers littered around the grounds swelled with the roar of the crowds, jangling obnoxiously in the night air.</p>
<p>Any minute now.</p>
<p>Ophelia flipped the torch in her hand. “Alright, gang. Time to split up. I’m going alone so we can cover the most ground.” She noticed how Caldwell was inching closer to Fergus. “Absolutely not. You two won’t do anything together. Caldwell, you’re with Leilani. Go.”</p>
<p>With that, she vanished, disappearing surprisingly fast seeing as it wasn’t completely dark.</p>
<p>“Bye Fergus,” Caldwell said sadly, wiping a fake tear from his cheek. Leilani grasped him impatiently by the wrist and dragged him away.</p>
<p>“This isn’t sneaking,” he said as he was forced to walk at a brisk pace alongside her.</p>
<p>She smirked at him. “Don’t worry, the night’s still young.”</p>
<p>“What are you expecting to happen?”</p>
<p>Her face scrunched in contemplation. Leilani’s long dark hair was still pulled up onto the top of her head, and Caldwell peered closer to pick out the object that was stashed in the strands. A cigarette.</p>
<p>Leilani glanced at a stall as they passed, glowing lights of the coconut shy lighting up the side of her face. Strips of LED lights were placed around the black-and-white tins to make them visible.</p>
<p>“I think they’ll go off for a minute or so. In that time, children will scream, and adults will cower in fear. Leilani will step up to the plate, patting children and reassuring their parents. The crowd goes wild, she steps away. The lights come back on. Comprende?”</p>
<p>“Don’t pat random children,” he said, instead.</p>
<p>The music swelled, and the lights of the stalls seemed to flicker manically.</p>
<p>Caldwell rubbed his temples. “I’m glad I’m not epileptic, damn. It’s a bit overkill.”</p>
<p>“Milo said this happens, too. But he thinks it’s a marketing tactic, like, ‘hey! Don’t forget you’re at Checker’s Carnival! It’s wild here!’”</p>
<p>“Milo says and thinks a lot of things, doesn’t he?” Caldwell forced his voice into an even tone.</p>
<p>Leilani grinned at him. “Sure does. He’s very observant.”</p>
<p>“People never notice anything.” Caldwell ran a hand through his hair. He’d taken the hat off. “That’s what he’d say. A typical Caulfield-kind of person. Never mind,” he sighed when she looked at him questioningly. “It’s—just never mind.”</p>
<p>“We didn’t get to go on the Ferris wheel.” Leilani pouted. A person with a beanie pulled low over their head bumped her in the shoulder, causing her to fall back slightly. He waited for her to catch up.</p>
<p>“Hey,” she said to the person, not rudely. The man sneered at her, face morphing into the ugly expression.</p>
<p>“Hey yourself,” he grunted, voice coarse and juxtaposing with his youthful features.</p>
<p>The man shoved by them, impatiently.</p>
<p>Leilani pursed her lips. Light glinted off her lip gloss. “Rude,” she muttered under her breath.</p>
<p>“Do we have a specific place we’re going, or are we drifting like plastic bags?” Caldwell’s feet were beginning to hurt, and his stomach was rumbling desperately.</p>
<p>“We could camp out here, we’ve walked enough away from the others.”</p>
<p>He gave a tired thumbs up. It was only approaching half nine, and he wanted to leap into bed.</p>
<p>“It’s because you caught the sun.” Leilani gestured to his nose.</p>
<p>He focused on the ghost train as they passed the waiting line for it. None of the people in the line were younger than ten years, which was probably for the best. He could only imagine the screams that would be evoked if the dull lights of the train went out and plunged its passengers into darkness.</p>
<p>“I didn’t catch the <em>entire</em> sun. It’s a little burn.”</p>
<p>“Okay, you caught a smidgeon of the sun.” Leilani widened her eyes dramatically. “Pedantic bitch.”</p>
<p>“Leilani,” he said warningly.</p>
<p>“You must be really tired.” She peered at his face. “You would’ve kicked me any other time I said that.”</p>
<p>He was. Thanks for noticing.</p>
<p>They walked for a few more minutes, weaving through the crowds and carefully keeping sight of each other.</p>
<p>By the time ten o’clock came around, Caldwell was almost dead on his feet. His mind vaguely registered blaring music reaching a crescendo, the screams of people, the machinery of rides creaking. It had been steadily building since they’d entered the carnival—and if it had been loud at three in the afternoon, it was catastrophic now.</p>
<p>He really didn’t need a headache on top of everything. Didn’t need another incentive for illegal behaviour in public.</p>
<p>“Wait until I tell Ophelia how unhelpful you’re being,” Leilani threatened him. They’d stopped in front of a popcorn stand. The smell of kernels on heat wakened him slightly if the violent flipping of his stomach was anything to go by.</p>
<p>He didn’t deign a response. Ophelia could suck it. They could all suck it. That guy at the popcorn stand could suck it, the people shrieking in his ear, Milo. Milo could definitely suck it. Annoying bastard.</p>
<p>He remembered the candyfloss and his cheeks heated up.</p>
<p>Then everything went dark.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ten-oh-nine,” said Ophelia. “That’s when the lights went out. What time did you get, Alby, Fergus?”</p>
<p>“Same as you,” Alby replied. He had slipped on a light sweater. “For exactly a minute.”</p>
<p>“Don’t look at us,” said Leilani when Ophelia turned to her and Caldwell. “My partner collided face-first with a stall.”</p>
<p>The left side of Caldwell’s face was throbbing gently. “I panicked! And besides, we have more than enough information.”</p>
<p>“Thankfully,” said Ophelia, eyes narrowed. “Milo, anything to add?”</p>
<p>They were gathered around his candyfloss stall, and he was leaned against the counter with his fore arms.</p>
<p>Milo blew out a breath. “No. One of the Czechowskis stopped by here a few minutes before the lights went out. The daughter, and her boyfriend, if the groping was anything to go by.”</p>
<p>“Gross,” Caldwell muttered, fazing in and out of the conversation. Alby had him propped up with an arm around Caldwell’s waist.</p>
<p>Milo raised an eyebrow but continued speaking. “I haven’t been working here long—about two weeks—but it’s definitely happened every night I’ve worked, and the crowd’s always split when it comes to their reaction. Half aren’t really bothered; the other half scream blue murder. Sort of like your friend, here.” He made a gesture at Caldwell.</p>
<p>“Listen here, check—” Caldwell began crossly, but Ophelia interrupted him.</p>
<p>“You said you finish at eleven, right?”</p>
<p>Milo nodded, black-and-white t-shirt wrinkled at the sleeves.</p>
<p>“It’s half ten now, so what do you say about meeting us after the carnival closes and going over tonight in detail?”</p>
<p>He started to smile, stopped, then the crooked smile slowly spread over his face again. “I’m starting to realise that when you ask a question like that, it’s never a question. Am I right?”</p>
<p>Ophelia’s face featured a similar smirk. “Bingo. What do you say?”</p>
<p>“I don’t say anything,” said Milo, arms flexing on the counter. “I do what you want. That’s how it works, of course.” Charming little shit.</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Leilani, grinning madly. “I like this one.”</p>
<p>Caldwell had to say something, he really did. It would’ve been a criminal offence if he didn’t.</p>
<p>“I <em>don’t</em>,” he said, just loud enough for Alby and Fergus to hear.</p>
<p>“What are you giggling about?” Leilani said to Fergus and Alby. Fergus gave an awkward shrug.</p>
<p>Alby just shook his head. “Caldwell being Caldwell. Ophelia, did you take a recording of the power cut?”</p>
<p>“Sure did.” She waved her phone in the air. It had a kamo case, like her bag. “I’ll show everyone later.”</p>
<p>Letting out a yawn, Milo stepped back from the counter. “I’m gonna pack up early. Anyone want the last bits of candyfloss before I throw it away?”</p>
<p>Caldwell launched himself out of Alby’s arms. “Me! I mean, me. If there’s any going around.”</p>
<p>“I said there was,” said Milo, smoothly, and with a skilled movement had emptied the large glass container behind the counter. He placed the small bucket on the counter, in between him and Caldwell.</p>
<p>“So,” Milo rested his elbows on the chequered surface, fluttering his eyelashes, “you come here often?”</p>
<p>He was ashamed to admit it, but Caldwell flushed all the way to the roots of his hair. His blonde hair did absolutely nothing to hide the damage, and he was sure it looked terrible.</p>
<p>“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, trying to snatch the bucket. It contained wisps of blue and pink, like someone had spilled different paints that bled into each other. Speaking of bleeding, Milo was smirking like the cat got the metaphorical cream, as if he wasn’t in extreme danger of being punched in the mouth.</p>
<p>He wanted to step back, but to leave the candyfloss felt like an excruciating defeat.</p>
<p>“Do you know what most psychologists agree that hostility is?” Milo didn’t move.</p>
<p>“No, and I don’t care,” Caldwell said rudely. Alby made an abortive gesture behind his back.</p>
<p>The taller boy sighed and nudged the bucket across the counter to Caldwell. “Never mind, then.”</p>
<p>Ophelia had a million questions; you could see it right there, in her olive eyes. “Right. Well, let’s get back to the car. Who wants to stay here and walk with Milo?”</p>
<p>“I will.” Leilani lifted her hand slightly to volunteer. She’d put her leather jacket back on, and it made her look older, formidable.</p>
<p>The walk out of the carnival and across the carpark to Misty was excruciatingly silent, or it would have been, if Ophelia shut up for two seconds. She was rambling excitedly to Alby, who nodded along and smiled at the appropriate times.</p>
<p>Caldwell dumped the candyfloss in a bin directly outside the entrance. He wasn’t eating what was essentially arsenic from a smug bastard who laughed at everything.</p>
<p>Fergus watched him but didn’t say anything. Fergus was brilliant like that.</p>
<p>They waited in Misty with the windows rolled down, watching tired people stumble out the carnival with blissful expressions on their faces, laughing and joking with each other.</p>
<p>A wave of exhaustion hit Caldwell again. The yellow of the car seats should have been off-putting or jerking, but he felt his eyes close anyway.</p>
<p>He missed his mom, suddenly, and his bomb kit he stashed in the garden shed. One time his grandfather had found it stuffed under his bed, which almost led to the old man having a heart attack and Caldwell did <em>not</em> need that on his conscience, so it went at the end of the garden the next day.</p>
<p>He woke to a rocking sensation, that could’ve only been someone’s body when they laughed. He opened one eye.</p>
<p>Ophelia was driving, hands rested on the top of the steering wheel and laughing at something someone in the front passenger seat was saying.</p>
<p>He heard a soft, “Sorry,” and looked up. Alby was peering down apologetically, eyes bright in the muted light afforded to them from passing cars’ headlights.</p>
<p>“Wha—where are we?” He sat up.  </p>
<p>“We’re on a road,” said Leilani from where she was squished in between Alby and Fergus in the backseat. That could only mean that the front seat was occupied by…</p>
<p>“He sure is softer when he’s asleep, falling asleep, or just waking up,” Milo told Ophelia, without any malice in his voice. She stifled a laugh.</p>
<p>“No.” Caldwell struggled to sit up and found he was wedged against the left side of the car, half on top of Alby to fit four of them in the back. “No. What are we doing?”</p>
<p>Leilani leaned over Alby. “Calm down, honey. You’ll wake Fergus.”</p>
<p>It paid testament to his exhaustion that he didn’t snap at her or fling himself out the car. Closing his eyes again, he drifted back into unconsciousness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ophelia parked Misty in front of the diner Milo had told them was open 24/7, pulling her keys from the ignition. He had been very complimentary about Misty, something she wished Caldwell had been awake to take note of.</p>
<p>Milo’s eyes doubled in their permanent amused twinkle when she told him Misty was short for ‘mystery’ and that she was only telling him that because Caldwell was asleep and wouldn’t start a fuss.</p>
<p>It was nearing a quarter past eleven, but there were five other people in the diner apart from them and the staff.</p>
<p>Compared to the other diner they had gone to earlier, this one—Up and at ‘Em—had a more rustic vibe, with distressed wood and ferns everywhere.</p>
<p>Caldwell yawned as he sat in a booth between Fergus and Ophelia.</p>
<p>“I’m getting a burger,” he announced.</p>
<p>Alby, Leilani and Ophelia burst out with emphatic <em>no’s</em>, Ophelia grabbing the menu from his hands and threatening to whack him with it if he did.</p>
<p>“I’m starving,” he whined, glaring at Leilani when she continued shaking her head. “It won’t hurt that much.”</p>
<p>“It will,” said Ophelia firmly, “a thousand times and more. Just pick something else. Or you can get the burger without the bun.”</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it when he noticed Milo smirking across the table.</p>
<p>“<em>Celiacs</em>,” Leilani remarked, dramatically. She fell back in her seat with a hand across her forehead and they all chuckled, but not Caldwell. No, Caldwell was plotting every revenge under the sun, taking breaks every now and then to sip his water.</p>
<p>“Can we talk about the carnival, please,” he commented quietly.</p>
<p>There was a shocked pause in the conversation, then Ophelia latched onto the topic with her typical zeal.</p>
<p>“Milo? How about we start with you. How did you get involved with Checker’s Carnival?”</p>
<p>He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh…well, I just graduated and me and a few friends were planning on going on a road trip somewhere to celebrate. I didn’t have spare funds, so I got the job at the carnival for extra money. That’s the part where you say, ‘wow, Milo! That’s so admirable and conscientious!”</p>
<p>He grinned easily around the table.</p>
<p>“It was my first day on the job when I saw the power cut. I freaked out, but the person training me said it happened all the time and that by then it was known as Checkers’ <em>thing</em>, you know, like Sherlock’s genius or Hamlet’s hesitance. That’s why nobody’s really bothered anymore; it’s been like that for the two weeks I’ve been there. Then you guys came and confirmed what I was already thinking: it was weird.”</p>
<p>“Have you spoken to any of the other employees about it?” Leilani wanted to know.</p>
<p>He shrugged, the material of his t-shirt shifting momentarily. “I’ve tried. Erica and Charlie, they have stalls next to mine, will remark on it but they change the topic at the first opportunity. Erica won’t even last a minute of that conversation without bailing.”</p>
<p>“What about the Czechowskis? Do you know anything about the family?”</p>
<p>Milo glanced at Ophelia. “I’ve met them all, but never at the same time.” He grinned suddenly. “Like Superman and Clark Kent. The daughter, Alice, is the friendliest—although that might be compared to her parents who are the silent, stone type. Mr Czechowski won’t ever say anything when he does a routine check of the grounds, and I’ve only seen Mrs Czechowski once.”</p>
<p>“Nice woman?” Caldwell asked, half-sarcastically.</p>
<p>“Splendid, actually.” And there was that tantalising amused sparkle in his eyes. Caldwell took a gulp of his water.</p>
<p>“They sound like they have something to hide,” Alby commented, frowning slightly.  “But the question is why.”</p>
<p>“That is the biggest question of all,” Milo agreed. He chewed thoughtfully on his fries. “But let’s not get into existentialism.”</p>
<p>Leilani reached for a cigarette, then thought better of it. Smoke meant getting kicked out of the diner and that would be a shame, because it was a very nice diner.</p>
<p>The table they were occupying was a dark wood, with fake vines wrapped around the legs and crawling up the length of the booth. Leaves kept tickling Caldwell when he leant back, forming a loose canopy over their heads. It reminded Caldwell of Alby’s house, and evidently Alby too, as he was slouched comfortably in the booth, a smile playing about his mouth.</p>
<p>“We need to speak with the Czechowskis—any one of them,” Ophelia said aloud, adjusting her glasses. The vines behind her set off the gold metal spectacularly.</p>
<p>Milo snorted. “Good luck with that. Alice only spoke to me once and that had at least fifty per cent do with the fact I’m an eligible male.”</p>
<p>Caldwell wasn’t going to voice what they all were surely thinking.</p>
<p>“And how do you know she isn’t bisexual or something?” Leilani questioned challengingly.</p>
<p>“She had a necklace with ‘Daddy’s little bitch’ on it. That seems like a straight girl thing—but then again, I could be sorely mistaken, right, Caldwell?”</p>
<p>Caldwell willed himself to keep drinking his water without choking or spewing it everywhere. “I—I’m not well-versed in that area. Ask Fergus or someone.”</p>
<p>Fergus scowled at him. “Just because I don’t have a dad doesn’t mean I have daddy issues,” he hissed, quietly but menacingly.</p>
<p>“I’ll find a way to speak to her,” said Ophelia. And she probably would, if it was the last thing she did.</p>
<p>They paid, then made for the car, Leilani calling shotgun. Caldwell grumbled, but crawled into the back with Fergus, Alby and Milo. Again, he considered mentioning that this couldn’t be legal: the back only had three seat belts, but Fergus was practically on top of him, crushing his lungs.</p>
<p>“Where to, Milo?” Ophelia asked, once everyone was in. Evidently, she was taking on chauffeuring as a side to the sleuthing shebang.</p>
<p>“Blue Diamond Lodge.” Milo looked confused when she gaped at him.</p>
<p>“With the Diamandis family,” he reiterated, and really, this sinking feeling in Caldwell’s gut can’t be healthy at all, “across town?”</p>
<p>Leilani turned in the front seat to grin widely at him. “That makes everything so much easier. We’re staying there too; talk about universal interconnectedness.”</p>
<p>The only interconnectedness Caldwell cared about right now was connecting his foot with something solid.</p>
<p>“You’re the loud guests that arrived earlier,” Milo realised, smacking a palm to his face. “That makes a lot of sense.”</p>
<p>“We literally slept as soon as we got there!” Leilani retorted, but her voice was lost in the sound of the engine.</p>
<p>Ophelia hummed non-committedly, taking a sharp right turn and sending the inhabitants of the car slamming against the side of Misty’s interior.</p>
<p>They settled into a silence that lasted the length of the journey back to the lodge.</p>
<p>When they arrived at the lodge, the lights were out except one on the desk in the lobby area. It provided a dim glow in which Alby walked straight into a potted plant.</p>
<p>“Fu—why does it have to be so dark!” he exclaimed, rubbing his foot, and trying to be quiet.</p>
<p>Ophelia spared him a single glance. “It’s midnight, Alby. Can you try not making so much noise?” She swept up the stairs, the keys Mrs Diamandis had given her hanging from her fingers.</p>
<p>Milo tutted quietly and turned on the staircase to smirk down at Alby. “So inconsiderate. Well, see you tomorrow.” He paused. “Or today, in a few hours.”</p>
<p>Leilani waved, but couldn’t be made out in the darkness. Caldwell didn’t bother. For a number of reasons, one being he didn’t care. Not at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Neon Lights And Whirring Noises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Caldwell kicked at the curb of the narrow sidewalk that ran along the perimeter of the carpark. He was waiting outside of a small off-licence, in the stifling heat. Ophelia and Alby had gone into the store to purchase snacks for later that evening, when they would be carrying out the next step of Ophelia’s brilliant ‘uncover the mystery plan’.</p><p>“Did you put sunscreen on?” Leilani asked him, seated on the curb. They could’ve waited in the car, but the sun beating down on the town of Derny made that a suicidal decision.</p><p>He glanced down at her. “Yes, <em>Mom</em>. Four whole squirts. Are you drinking that?” He gestured to the water bottle on the ground beside her.</p><p>“Have at it.” She chucked it at him in a smooth motion, right hand over her face to avoid the glare of the sun.</p><p>Fergus made an unhappy noise from where he was sprawled on the curb. Caldwell was deciding whether or not tell him he was in a prime position to be hit by somebody’s jeep, settling on remaining silent. The boy looked unsettled enough.</p><p>“It feels hotter in Derny than in Maude,” Leilani remarked. She was wearing another of her band t-shirts, tucked into high-waisted shorts. The whole appearance was probably not what she was going for: the lead singer’s face on the t-shirt was drooping, and her shorts were streaked with dust.</p><p>“Same with my hometown, Laurel.”</p><p>Caldwell did his best not to react. Milo had started hanging out with them whenever he didn’t have a shift at the carnival and made himself the next most invested in their investigation, after Ophelia.</p><p>It was their third day in Derny. After observing the power cut twice on the carnival’s grounds, Ophelia was ready to try a different tactic.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’ve decided that splitting up is going to be the best thing,” she had announced that morning. They glanced at her from varying positions scattered around the lodge’s outdoor swimming pool. “We’ve seen how the power cut effects the carnival directly, but now we need to view the whole thing from a distance. Like a detached perspective.”</p><p>“How do you propose we do that?” Milo lifted his head. He was lounging by the side of the pool, dipping an arm into the cool water.</p><p>“I thought we could all spread out through Derny, in different spots, and note what happens when the lights go out. We’re an even number now, so that would work nicely.”</p><p>“No,” said Caldwell emphatically. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. It’s a strange town we don’t know much about, and you want us to experience the power cut without any knowledge of escape routes or hiding spots.”</p><p>“We’ll be in pairs,” Ophelia told him, patiently. “And a little electrical circuit being cut isn’t going to hurt you. If we want to find out anything about what is going on, then this is the best way.”</p><p>Caldwell didn’t define ‘best’ in the same way Ophelia evidently did. In fact, he defined it as ‘stick-together-in-a-big-group-because-that’s-the-safest-least-likely-to-end-up-in-death-plan’. Great minds didn’t always think alike.</p><p>“If I die it’s on you to tell my parents and grandfather,” he told her.</p><p>Ophelia shrugged and waved him off.</p><p>“Are they the only people who’ll need to be told?” asked Milo.</p><p>“He’s an only child,” said Ophelia. She positioned herself at the edge of the pool and rolled in. She emerged with a splash. “If you can believe that.”</p><p>“That is the most believable thing you’ve said all day,” Milo replied.</p><p>Caldwell half-heartedly splashed at both of them. “Don’t anger me while you’re surrounded by a mass of water, Ophelia.” He grinned suddenly. “Though it would be a beautiful homage to Shakespearean literature if you drowned.”</p><p>Milo looked surprised, then his eyes twinkled impossibly at Caldwell.</p><p>“What’s that mean?” Leilani said, spread out on the warm cobblestones. She’d stolen Caldwell’s hat to shadow her eyes.</p><p>He shrugged. “Perhaps you should follow your own advice.”</p><p> </p><p>Now, he watched the store’s automatic doors slide wide open and Alby and Ophelia step out into the sunshine. They had two bags between them, bulging at the sides.</p><p>“What’d you get?” said Leilani when they reached the car.</p><p>Ophelia opened Misty’s trunk. “Chips and sandwiches, so Fergus doesn’t complain, and juice. I got you rice crackers, Cal.”</p><p>“Thank you very much,” he muttered. “Are you feeling bad about what you’re making us do, yet?”</p><p>She straightened. “What do you think?”</p><p>He was allowed to hope.</p><p>Ophelia passed around the juice bottles—only a very minor fight breaking out when Caldwell and Leilani fought over the grape juice.</p><p>They waited until eight p.m. to put their plan into action. Again, Caldwell wanted to point out that it was <em>Ophelia’s</em> plan, it was <em>always</em> Ophelia’s plan. He had absolutely nothing to do with it. Except when he did and was dragged across a town to investigate something that should really be left well alone. There was nothing wrong with turning a blind eye. Especially when the blind eye doesn’t pick up on strange people, dead animals, and disturbed graveyards. Caldwell had never wanted the bitter-sweet kiss of death more than during the month Ophelia had them investigating the carcasses of beloved pets that had started showing up in the neighbouring town.</p><p>“First lot out,” said Ophelia. There was a demonic glint in her eye. She stopped the car beside a small video store, handing over two torches. The video store was lit up from the inside, movie posters plastered over the front windows. There was an ancient Jaws poster, and underneath it, one displaying the Home Alone series, which made it seem like Kevin McCallister was watching the shark’s attack with something akin to horror.</p><p>Before Caldwell could protest, Leilani and Alby had hopped out of Misty, slammed the car door, and waved a mischievous goodbye.</p><p>Ophelia sped off while Caldwell was still spluttering in the backseat, glaring at Leilani and Alby’s fading faces through the back window. He could make out an indistinct high five before they disappeared from view.</p><p>“What?!” He growled, feeling a sense of utter shock and disbelief invade his system. “I was going to go with one of them! How could they betray me like that?”</p><p>Fergus patted him pityingly on the shoulder.</p><p>“I’m never speaking to either of them again,” he decided, slumping against his seat. Ophelia turned onto a main road to drive across Derny to drop the next pairing off.</p><p>“It’s not that big of a deal. Just tell Alby you’ll blow up his cat if he does it again,” Ophelia suggested, grinning at him in the rear-view mirror.</p><p>“Good idea.” Caldwell allowed any previous resentment at her to fade away. “I’ll go with Fergus.”</p><p>The car jerked, and Ophelia gestured to the car behind them apologetically.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” she said, wincing when she made eye contact again with the driver directly behind Misty. “I want actual results from this investigation. We’re close to uncovering something. I can feel it.”</p><p>“You must have sensory loss,” Caldwell muttered, because he was sad and betrayed and not looking forward to the night ahead at all.</p><p>Milo let out a choked laugh, hastily turning it into a cough when Ophelia side-eyed him. One thing most people learnt, rather early on in life, was to never anger the person with any show of control of the situation; which in this case, meant don’t anger the person at the steering wheel.</p><p>If he could just vanish, Caldwell thought desperately, wistfully. If he could just press a button and shrink like Antman, all would be well. Ophelia couldn’t very well ask an ant to sleuth for her. Actually, that is a thing Ophelia would very much do if she ever met an ant that was fluent in Mystery-Whore. Scrap that.</p><p>Death was an option. Not perhaps the most ideal method: his parents and grandfather would miss him terribly, he hoped. But it was up there, in much the same way his mood wasn’t.</p><p>He was feeling quite down.</p><p>“Out you pop,” Ophelia said insolently, loudly. And she couldn’t mean what Caldwell thought she did. Surely not.</p><p>“Out,” she said again.</p><p>He whined, “Please, Ophelia. I’m young and vulnerable and—”</p><p>Milo was already out the car, patting his jeans pocket for his phone. He watched Caldwell with an air of outward amusement.</p><p>“You can’t make me go with him! He’s smug and stupid and, <em>Ophelia</em>.”</p><p>She sighed and turned to face him with an apologetic expression. “Cal, I know you don’t like him, although I can’t fathom why, but think about it. It’s between you and Fergus to get out, and you can’t expect Fergus to spend three hours alone with Milo when he’s just met him.”</p><p>Caldwell glanced at Fergus. He was biting his lip and staring out the window determinedly, hands clenched by his side. He was clearly working himself up for something, but the anxiety was radiating off his body in waves.</p><p>“Fine,” he said. “Fine.”</p><p>Caldwell squeezed Fergus’s arm once, then clambered out of the car with the torches Ophelia dug out from under her seat.</p><p>“And I want none of your usual bullshit,” he told Milo crossly.</p><p>Milo, to his credit, didn’t so much as blink. “But it’s so much more fun. Wave goodbye to Ophelia and Fergus like a good boy.”</p><p>Caldwell growled under his breath. Ophelia flashed Misty’s lights at them twice, then rode off, Fergus’s sympathetic face in the back window.</p><p>“So,” said Milo. His brown hair was tousled, backlit by the neon sign of the Computer Repairs store behind them.</p><p>“Shut up,” said Caldwell. “I’m going to find a safe place to sit for the next three hours.”</p><p>He spun on his heel and made for the front of the store, plopping down on the pavement with his back to the large window which had missing cat posters pasted everywhere.</p><p>Milo joined him a few seconds later. The air was beginning to cool, crisp in the dark neighbourhood. Directly across from them was a small restaurant, over the street and surrounded by shrubbery decorated with fairy lights.</p><p>“I was trying to describe what this felt like,” said Milo, quietly. Caldwell turned his head slightly. “And I think this is the closest I’ll get: you know that feeling when you’ve filled the bathtub really full, almost to the brim, without any bubbles. A vast emptiness which you sink into, and you can still hear things in the next room but everything’s numb and indistinguishable from under the water. The tap keeps flowing and the bath keeps filling and you eventually touch the bottom of the tub where it’s just you and the water.”</p><p>Neon lights danced across his face in pinks and blues.</p><p>“That’s what sitting here feels like. Separate and dissociated, but still <em>here</em> because we can hear people laughing across the road, but it’s muted and lonely and you can’t quite touch it.”</p><p>There was a poster next to Caldwell’s head, of a missing cat called Rosemond. He didn’t know how long it had been up there, or if she’d ever been found.</p><p>“What I think,” he started, mussing his blond hair with an absent hand, “is that many people will describe a lot of things like that, no matter where they’re sitting. It’s nice.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Milo, eyes on his side profile. “It is.”</p><p>An hour crept by. Caldwell checked his phone to see a message on their group chat. It was Ophelia, saying she’d pick them up a few minutes after the lights went out, when she’d had time to snoop around her area of Derny.</p><p>“Nine-oh-three p.m.,” Milo spoke up. “Who’s your favourite artist?”</p><p>“We’re not seriously playing twenty questions,” said Caldwell. He sighed when Milo looked at him expectantly. “Uh…maybe Van Gogh? I don’t fucking know. His sunflowers are nice.”</p><p>He felt the boy next to him shake with silent laughter.</p><p>“Why are you laughing? That’s not very polite.”</p><p>Milo took a wheezing breath, and managed to say, “I meant your favourite music artist.”</p><p>Caldwell huffed, hoping the neon sign wasn’t bright enough to show his full face. “You could’ve said that. Maybe Joji. Or Celine Dion, if I’m in the right mood.”</p><p>“See, that’s what I love about people. You see the outside of them, all frowny and pouty and blond hair and brown eyes—”</p><p>Caldwell interrupted, “I feel like you’re talking about one specific person.”</p><p>“—and then they come out and say they like <em>Celine Dion</em> in complete, total juxtaposition.” Milo shifted on the step to get comfortable again. “Humans are very complex.”</p><p>“You haven’t met Ophelia, then. She has the Scooby Doo theme tune on her playlist in a complete unironic way.”</p><p>“She’s quite something,” Milo agreed.</p><p>“Something I’d like to kick, maybe. I’m getting cold and that shadow over there is freaking me out. When do you think the lights will go out?”</p><p>“Dunno. What’s your third favourite way of cooking potatoes?”</p><p>“Shut up.” Caldwell paused. “Mashed. What’s your favourite book?”</p><p>“I can’t choose. The Catcher In The Rye, if I absolutely had to.”</p><p>Caldwell sat up and looked at him in abject disbelief. “Really? Out of all the books in the world you choose the one every kid in public school is forced to sit through? I called it.”</p><p>Milo chuckled lowly. “I like its depiction of grief. And it’s funny.” He glanced at Caldwell, then at the missing cat poster. “What do you mean you called it?” he said, curiously.</p><p>“Never mind. I like it as well.”</p><p>They watched the figures of people in the restaurant window, across the street. The sound of laughter mingled with car engines had died down, leaving them alone with the dark shadows and neon lights.</p><p>“Why are you around Ophelia if you hate mysteries so much?” Milo asked suddenly. He was wearing a faded pink hoodie that appeared grey from where Caldwell was sitting.</p><p>Caldwell propped his head on his knees. He’d asked himself the same question multiple times. His grandfather asked him, his parents, the pigeon that nested in the tree next to his bedroom window asked him. “Nosy,” he replied.</p><p>“Interested. Everyone seems at least a little invested, even Fergus, apart from you.”</p><p>“Ophelia collects people like she collects mysteries.” He wanted to know how Rosemond had gone missing. If she was alright. She seemed like a cat who could take care of herself. “I collect the hairs of people who ask me pointless questions and create voodoo dolls.”</p><p>Milo’s eyes glinted. “Message received loud and clear.”</p><p>One thing that bothered Caldwell was how this little investigation was shaping out. On their second trip to Checker’s Carnival, Ophelia had scouted the entire grounds for Alice Czechowski. Milo said the family stayed in close radius to the carnival during the holidays to keep an eye on operations, stopping by every few days at random stalls for a report.</p><p>She’d eventually found Alice when the girl visited Milo’s stall for a stick of candy floss, pouncing on her and bombarding Alice with question after question. Caldwell had privately deemed that a very hypocritical moment: they were supposed to be sleuthing inconspicuously, subtly. Ophelia’s hot pink denim shorts and bucket hat didn’t scream undercover.</p><p>Alice hadn’t been the greatest help. She’d smiled and chatted until the subject of the carnival came up, then darted away like a rabbit who’d spotted a fox.</p><p>“We’ll find out more information from the Czechowskis,” Ophelia had said grimly, dejectedly.</p><p>“You’ve gone quiet,” Milo remarked now. “Which only happens when you’re tired and—no. Actually, just when you’re tired.”</p><p>“And when I’m stuck with people against my will,” Caldwell muttered. “Annoying people.”</p><p>“Do you find me annoying?” Milo sounded amused.</p><p>Caldwell put the hood of his Marvel hoodie up. “No, I adore your company, you little shit.”</p><p>“Pet names already?” Now Milo’s perpetual amusement was topped with mock amazement. He did things in As, apparently.</p><p>“I’m having a nap that I will hopefully never wake up from. Don’t miss the power cut or Ophelia will have your head.”</p><p>In all truthfulness, Caldwell wasn’t having a nap; he was giving himself an opportunity to observe Milo without him knowing. Snuggling into his hoodie so only a few curls of hair were poking out, Caldwell leant back against the stone wall of the Computer Repairs shop, eyes fixed on the enigma beside him.</p><p>Milo wasn’t an enigma, at least Caldwell didn’t quite think he was, but he’d wormed his way so easily into their group—a feat that hadn’t been accomplished since Leilani, two years ago. That made him slightly different and someone worth watching.</p><p>He sat on the ground, back against the store, calmly observing the silhouettes in the restaurant and the stars in the sky. He watched as a plane flew overhead, the only thing visible being a flashing red dot amongst the constellations. And as a breeze whistled through the shrubbery lining the footpath leading to the restaurant entrance. Milo looked at everything and nothing at the same time because he was so busy thinking he sometimes missed what his eyes danced past.</p><p>There was a difference between looking and seeing, Caldwell thought, which he’d read somewhere in something.</p><p>“I know you’re not sleeping,” Milo said, which also had to mean: ‘I know you’re watching me’.</p><p>Caldwell made a big deal of snuffling into the hoodie and producing exaggerated snoring sounds.</p><p>“You’re such a—” Milo began, voice playful, when the lights went out and their faces were bathed in darkness.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I made a note in my phone this time,” Caldwell announced proudly. He opened Misty’s door and slid into the front seat before Milo could.</p><p>Ophelia beamed at him.</p><p>“What time did you get?” Fergus asked him quietly.</p><p>“Nine-fifty,” Milo interjected, hopping into the back with an amused glance at the back of Caldwell’s head.</p><p>Ophelia hummed, tapping on the steering wheel.</p><p>“That’s the time we got, and we were on the opposite side of Derny. That must mean the lights go out across the town collectively, not like in a domino effect.”</p><p>“It was for a minute, same as last time. We couldn’t hear the carnival music, though.” Milo unwrapped a cereal bar and sank his teeth into it.</p><p>“Fergus and I picked up on a slight whirring noise around the time the lights went out, but it could’ve been the wind. We were closer to the carnival, so that may have caused sound pollution.”</p><p>Caldwell stared out the window as street-lights blurred into the backdrop of darkness. “It doesn’t get any less creepy the more you witness the power cut.”</p><p>“You didn’t seem very scared when I was with you,” Milo said teasingly.</p><p>“My mind was elsewhere; like on how to avoid assault.”</p><p>“Oh, Caldwell,” Milo said, voice sickeningly sweet, “if you had that much trouble keeping your hands off me, you could’ve just <em>said</em>.”</p><p>Ophelia snickered, eyes on the road ahead. “So, you didn’t hear anything abnormal?”</p><p>“No. What would you classify as abnormal?”</p><p>“A noise that doesn’t sound like it belongs in that particular environment. I’m so sure I heard a chopping sound, like a whirring or something. Why would I hear that near a Sewage Works?”</p><p>Caldwell turned in his seat to chuckle at Fergus. “She took you to a Sewage Works?”</p><p>Fergus nodded, mournfully.</p><p>“There’s less light pollution because no one wants to be around there,” Ophelia defended, tapping her fingers again.</p><p>“I wonder why.” Milo stretched in the backstreet. “Beautiful place for a little bonding.”</p><p>Caldwell froze in his seat. “Now why would you say bondage while being sarcastic? Almost anything else would’ve worked as well—”</p><p>“I said bonding.”</p><p>Caldwell began to realise his fatal mistake.</p><p>“Although, I’m open to any of your suggestions—”</p><p>“Shut up,” he hissed furiously. Ophelia slanted a bemused smile at him across the console.</p><p>They pulled into a parking lot, Alby and Leilani hopping into the car a few seconds later.</p><p>“Boy, do we have news for you!” Leilani declared, leaning over Fergus through the gap between the front seats. Fergus made a noise of complaint. “Guess what we found.”</p><p>Ophelia urged her to continue, a demonic excitement building in her face.</p><p>“Well, we didn’t <em>find</em> anything, per se, but we definitely heard something! You said you dropped us off the nearest to the carnival, right? Well, the music picked up like it usually does, but where we were standing, we could hear something <em>else</em>. Something almost drowned out by the carnival rides. We think—we think it was a helicopter.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Captain Outlaw: Shipload of Indians</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“A <em>helicopter</em>, Leilani,” said Milo doubtfully. “Are you sure?”</p><p>She nodded earnestly, and nudged Alby when everyone continued to look at her in varying extremes of disbelief. “Tell them, Alby!”</p><p>Alby fiddled with the hem of his pink polo shirt. “It sounds unbelievable, we know. But we could hear a chopping sound, and you know what sound a helicopter makes…”</p><p>“I do, actually,” said Milo. “Very loud. Very helicoptery.”</p><p>“It was dark except for the carnival lights that could still be seen from a mile away, and we couldn’t exactly see anything—”</p><p>Caldwell snorted. He was up way past his bedtime, in a room that didn’t contain his own bed, and discussing the possibility of there being an aircraft hovering above Checker’s Carnival, apparently for the pure, unadulterated fun of it. “Some would hazard to say seeing is believing.”</p><p>“There are four other senses! Whoever said seeing is believing can suck a fat one.”</p><p>Ophelia shifted into a cross-legged position on her bed, clad in salmon silk pyjamas which caught the light and reflected it terribly into Caldwell’s suffering eyeballs. “What other senses did you use, if not sight?”</p><p>“Well,” said Leilani and Alby.</p><p>“It can’t have been touch,” said Caldwell. “They weren’t close enough.”</p><p>“And I really hope it wasn’t taste,” added Milo, a concerned expression forming on his face.</p><p>“Or smell. You didn’t <em>smell</em> a helicopter, did you?” Caldwell asked them. Leilani and Alby slowly shook their heads, the former sulkily, the latter sheepishly.</p><p>Ophelia spoke up. “But they heard something. And I told you earlier that I heard something strange at the Sewage Works. Fergus and I were closer to Leilani and Alby- and subsequently the carnival- than you and Milo were. We all could’ve picked up on something you missed.”</p><p>“That is true,” Milo allowed, “especially when you consider half of my pair went to sleep. It is entirely plausible you all heard a helicopter while I was just barely holding the investigation together by threads.”</p><p>“How loud was the sound you heard?” Caldwell asked Ophelia hastily.</p><p>“Not very, but distinguishable. Alby?”</p><p>Alby shared a look with Leilani. “It was loud enough to be unmistakeable.”</p><p>Excitement was evident in Ophelia’s body language now. “The only way to tell for sure would be to wait until next time and go back to Alby and Leilani’s spot. The next thing to take into consideration is exactly why a helicopter was there in the first place, if it really is a helicopter, which seems likely at this point.” She glanced around the haphazard circle they’d formed in the Blue room.</p><p>Caldwell and Fergus were huddled at the head of Ophelia’s bed, both half-asleep. Leilani was presiding over her bed with her legs spread like an asshole, and Alby had brought the mattress from next door and was sharing it with Milo, who was slumped half on and half off it with his feet resting on the wall.</p><p>It would be a cold day in hell before Caldwell willingly went anywhere where there were strange sounds in the dark. “I’m sure you’ll hear whatever your heart desireth when you go tomorrow evening, Ophelia, but count this individual out.”</p><p>“Caldwell,” Ophelia said, “remember that time whe—”</p><p>“Okay!” he squawked, “Okay, okay! I’ll be there. No need to throw a hissy fit.”</p><p>Milo looked up curiously. “Remember what time?”</p><p>“Absolutely none of your business,” Caldwell told him. He added a furious glare for good measure.</p><p>A grin settled on Milo’s face. “Is it embarrassing?”</p><p>Caldwell turned the heat of his glare up a notch, but it didn’t seem to deter the other boy much.</p><p>“Did she catch you in a compromising situation? Was there another person involved? Would you flee the country if it got out?”</p><p>There were times, which admittedly were not as few and far between as they perhaps should have been if he was an emotionally healthy individual, when Caldwell felt the overwhelming desire to punch someone in the face. Right now, for instance, he felt like swinging a right hook into Milo’s smug visage, perhaps even dislodging his nose ring in the process. One could dream.</p><p>Leilani was a god send. Figuratively, because there was no way she hadn’t crawled her way up from hell, which was obvious at any other moment in time. “It could be the media?” she said doubtfully, running her hands up her thighs which was a sign she needed a smoke. “Trying to get a scoop on the carnival at last.”</p><p>“Or a privately-owned helicopter the Czechowski family use to retire for the night,” Alby suggested.</p><p>Ophelia hummed thoughtfully. “What we need to find out is how long the helicopter is there for. It doesn’t make sense how nobody seems to have heard it before, unless last night was the first time it came, but I’m not convinced it was.”</p><p>“I’m convinced that this is scary and dodgy,” Caldwell told Fergus. “Name one morally good person in a film who uses a helicopter.”</p><p>Fergus, bless his heart, was too dazed to even attempt a response, desperately trying to keep up an appearance of engaging with the conversation.</p><p>Leilani suggested splitting up the following evening: a pair going to her previous spot to try and hear the helicopter-esque noises, and the rest going back to Checker’s to see whether the helicopter was in any way related to the carnival. Milo said he was working then, so wouldn’t be available to do any sleuthing, to which Caldwell may or may not have had an internal, orgasmic celebration.</p><p>“Things really are heating up, gang,” Ophelia declared, too exuberantly for someone in silk pyjamas past eleven at night.</p><p>Milo chuckled. “The similarities between you lot and Mystery Incorporated are galling. Except Fred is arguably the leader, and Ophelia just wouldn’t rock a neck tie.”</p><p>“I wasn’t trying to,” she said. “But I appreciate the comparison.”</p><p>Raking a hand through his brown curls, Milo laughed again. “So, if you’re all like Mystery Incorporated, then is Caldwell Scooby Doo?”</p><p>Caldwell glared at him.</p><p>“Yes,” said Leilani, “but Caldwell’s more of a demonic chihuahua than a Great Dane. And he’s nowhere near as helpful.”</p><p>“I help plenty,” Caldwell defended himself hotly. He couldn’t and wouldn’t take this abuse passively.</p><p>Milo let his hand fall into his lap. “And how would that be?”</p><p>There wasn’t a safe way to answer that, Caldwell didn’t think, not with Milo refusing to cease <em>grinning</em> at him like that, like he found everything Caldwell did to be a bottomless source of amusement.</p><p>Instead of falling into the trap of replying and being laughed at more, he shrugged up his shoulders in an incredibly fake yawn which even the cast of Saved By The Bell would have been embarrassed by and jumped off the bed. Fergus was dislodged in the process, startling violently— “I knew he wasn’t paying attention,” Ophelia muttered, dirtily—and clutching onto the back of Caldwell’s hoodie.</p><p>“Would you look at that,” Caldwell said, glancing down at Fergus and slipping an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “Both of us are extremely tired, and thus will be retiring for the night. Bonne nuit and all that tosh.”</p><p>He limped out the door, having only minor difficulty traversing the mattress on the floor with Fergus’s dead weight.</p><p>“I should be going as well,” Alby announced, getting up from the mattress. “It’s kinda late.”</p><p>Milo spared a glance at the watch on his right wrist. “Yeah, me too. Don’t expect to see me much tomorrow. I’ll probably sleep in late and then head down early to set up the stall for my shift. The guy who takes over for me on my days off never cleans the candyfloss maker and it gets all crusty.”</p><p>“Charming,” said Leilani. “We’ll catch you then, or whoever ends up at the carnival to check things out, will.”</p><p>He nodded, smiling briefly before leaving the room for his own quarters.</p><p>The girls left behind in their room waited for a muffled altercation in the corridor, but Caldwell must have made it to his room safely before Milo could say anything to him.</p><p>Ophelia raised an eyebrow at Leilani, who just smirked and settled under the covers of her bed. The room was just dark enough to see each other’s forms when the side lamp was switched off, and there was no point in closing the curtains all the way.</p><p>“Night, Lani,” Ophelia mumbled, drifting off to thoughts of helicopters and candyfloss.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Hey Mrs Diamandis,” Caldwell said, entering the cool, spacious kitchen of the lodge. “Whatcha making?”</p><p>She smiled rambunctiously at him, hands clad in a pair of oven mitts decorated with barnyard scenes. They clashed terribly with the fresh linen dress she was wearing: greens and browns against cold blue and white vertical lines.</p><p>“Cookies, dearie. Mind the tray, it’s hot.” She swatted at his hands that inched around her waist to snag a cookie. “I’ll save you a few, why don’t I? Keeps you from burning your thieving fingers.”</p><p>He grinned, peering around the kitchen. Like the rest of the lodge appeared to be, it was painted in whites and blues, with a wooden table in the middle holding a vase overflowing with flowers and skewered olives.</p><p>Mrs Diamandis saw his gaze rest on the vase and said with a snort, “Those are from my one son-in-law as an apology for marrying my daughter.”</p><p>“Really? They’re very…Mediterranean.” Caldwell replied.</p><p>“No, but it should be. Good-for-nothing lazy son-of-a-” she shoved a baking tray rather violently into the eye-level oven.</p><p>“Right,” said Caldwell hastily, directing a last yearning look at the cookies steaming merrily on the kitchen counter. “Got to dash, Mrs Diamandis. Don’t forget your promise.”</p><p>She didn’t watch him leave, muttering angrily to herself as she assembled various ingredients no doubt to repeat the whole process again.</p><p>“Mrs Diamandis has a wild family-life,” he announced to Alby and Fergus as he entered their room. Fergus glanced up from where he was fighting a battle with the contents of his bag and losing spectacularly.</p><p>“Don’t go bothering her because you’re bored, Caldwell.”</p><p>Caldwell didn’t deign coming up with a response to that, simply put, personal attack, instead plopping onto his made bed with a wmmphh.</p><p>“We could pla—” he began hopefully.</p><p>Sometimes Fergus could be downright dismissive. “We’re not playing hide-n-seek again. Read something if you’re bored.”</p><p>They would be stricken with remorse one day, Caldwell thought, rolling onto his stomach and retrieving his phone from his back pocket. When he was no longer around, they would think to themselves: why didn’t we entertain Caldwell when we had the chance? Why didn’t we <em>appreciate</em> him? The lilies in memory of him would represent all the times he was brushed aside.</p><p>He had To Kill A Mockingbird on his phone, which was a bit heavy going for a casual perusal, but then again, what choice did he have? None. He focused on Scout Finch and racism and mockingbirds.</p><p>“Cal.” Someone was shaking him.</p><p>He glanced irritably at Ophelia. “What do you want, gremlin?”</p><p>She’s clipped bits of her shoulder-length hair back, a few strands falling around the frame of her glasses. “We’re getting lunch and then killing a couple hours at the mall.”</p><p>She stepped back from his bed and onto something soft.</p><p>“Ummph,” Fergus yelped, glaring up at her from his mattress.</p><p>“Sorry, Fergs. Come on we’re leaving now. Do you want shotgun?”</p><p>He rubbed his stomach crossly, trying to nod sullenly but the smile at the corner of his mouth gave him away.</p><p>Caldwell fetched a hoodie and his wallet before following Ophelia out the door, wondering whether it would be feasible to trip her down the stairs. He had about two inches on her—<em>tiny, his ass</em>—so he could do it. Although she’d take him down with her. No doubt about it.</p><p>Mrs Diamandis appeared in the lobby as they made their way noisily down the stairs, avoiding the rickety bannister in fear of splinters.</p><p>“One for the road, dearies,” she said warmly, offering up a plate of still-warm cookies as if to an alter for an ancient deity.</p><p>“Two?” Caldwell asked, muffled through the cookie he’d already crammed into his mouth.</p><p>Ophelia stared at him. “Cal, did you check whether they were gluten-free?!”</p><p>Caldwell glanced down at the half-bitten cookie in his hand. “Uh-oh,” he said.</p><p>Mrs Diamandis’s face morphed into suitable horror. “You didn’t tell me, Caldwell!” but due to the tremor in her voice it sounded closer to ‘called-wullll’. “Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that, you silly boy?”</p><p>Ophelia directed her back into the kitchen with a comforting hand at the small of her back. “Don’t worry Mam, he doesn’t tell anybody. It wasn’t too much, hopefully he’ll get by with a sore tummy.”</p><p>Leilani was in tears at the other end of the hall. Fergus had the presence of mind to deprive Caldwell of the remaining cookie.</p><p>When she’d calmed Mrs Diamandis down somewhat, Ophelia returned to the lobby with a fierce glare behind her wire-rim glasses. “You’re apologising to her later, Caldwell! She was a panicky mess.”</p><p>“I forgot,” he said. “You would blame me for a common human attribute? I thought you were better than that, Ophelia.”</p><p>Ophelia glared at him some more then whisked out of the front door, Leilani following closely behind with a sorrowful expression which would have been almost believable had it not been for the corners of her mouth curling upward impossibly.</p><p>In all truthfulness, he was beginning to feel a tightness coiling in his stomach, but that could’ve been anything.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want any,” he told Ophelia at the sales counter. She raised an eyebrow over the top of her large popcorn.</p><p>“Fine,” she said, but he glimpsed her sharing a worried look with Leilani. “How about a soda?”</p><p>Caldwell shook his head, a wave of nausea washing over him suddenly. “Let’s just watch the film.”</p><p>They did and it wasn’t very good, mostly because pirates and cowboys were fairly respectable as their own genres, with their personal specific plotlines and villains, but when amalgamated into a pirate ship called the Jolly Indian and cowboys fought swordfish with guns, while singing shanties that sounded suspiciously like the national anthem, it became a trifle “Over the top,” in the words of Alby, who appeared a little dazed when walking out the theatre.</p><p>“Fucking brilliant,” in the words of Leilani, who crouched low on the landing and engaged a startled child in an imaginary sword fight.</p><p>Ophelia checked her watch. “It’s nearly four p.m. Watch another film?”</p><p>“It’s a good thing she’s loaded,” Leilani whispered to Caldwell. He managed to nod in response.</p><p>They stopped to peruse the posters of the films the theatre was showing. They had a choice of three which began in the next half hour.</p><p>“We’re not watching Captain Outlaw: Shipload of Indians again.”</p><p>Leilani side-eyed her. “Why, you think you’re too good for it?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” said Ophelia. “Because my eyes and ears are both bleeding.”</p><p>“That might have been exactly the effect the director was going for,” Alby commented. He scratched the back of his head. “At least the cinematography was half-decent.”</p><p>If a spirit leaving one’s body could be seen, Ophelia’s was a firework on the fourth of July. She visibly slumped. “There wasn’t any. That’s why my eyes are bleeding.”</p><p>“It wasn’t that bad,” Leilani defended, still tracing arcs in the air with her invisible sword-gun hybrid. “Caldwell?”</p><p>“Not that bad,” he uttered. He was blinking in and out of consciousness.</p><p>They traipsed into the theatre twenty minutes later, to watch it again. Caldwell thought he saw Ophelia kick one of the chairs in incredibly bad grace, but he couldn’t trust his eyesight right then.</p><p>“He’s majorly out of it,” he heard someone whisper over his shoulder, but couldn’t tell who.</p><p>“We can’t take him to the carnival. He looks like he’s going to keel over and dash his brains out,” a worried voice was saying back.</p><p>A strong arm wound around his waist and he vaguely registered Alby ushering him into Misty, a worried frown between his eyebrows.</p><p>“—back at the lodge and tell Mrs Diamandis to keep an eye on him,” Ophelia was saying loudly as she started the engine. Her hair was frizzing around her face.</p><p>His eyes focused long enough on Fergus’s anxious face invading his space bubble.</p><p>“I’m fine, just really nauseous and dizzy.”</p><p>Fergus nodded and rubbed his arm comfortingly. “We’ll get you better, don’t worry.”</p><p>Somewhere in the car someone snorted. Probably Leilani. Definitely Leilani.</p><p>When they arrived at the lodge, Alby half-carried him to their room, and Ophelia went in search of Mrs Diamandis.</p><p>“We can stay in tonight, if you want?” Alby said, depositing Caldwell on his bed.</p><p>Caldwell chuckled weakly. “Don’t let Ophelia hear you saying that. I’m fine.”</p><p>“Right,” said Alby, but he didn’t look convinced, mainly because Caldwell’s face had a white sheen to it, and his stomach was clearly swollen through his t-shirt.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have eaten that cookie,” Fergus told him.</p><p>“You <em>think</em>?” he managed, as Mrs Diamandis rushed into the room, bustling over to the side of his bed with Ophelia and Leilani trailing behind her.</p><p>“Dearie, what’re we going to do with you?” she cried, wisps of grey hair falling out of the knot at her neck.</p><p>“Death,” he said. “Please.”</p><p>“Look at him.” Leilani peered closer at his face. “He’s delirious.”</p><p>Alby spared her an irritated glance. “He knows what he’s saying. Lily says the bloating is terrible.” Lily was his ten-year-old sister, who was gluten-intolerant as well and liked to make everyone aware of it.</p><p>They didn’t end up staying at the lodge: Mrs Diamandis said they made too much noise (Leilani), were overly concerned (Fergus), too antsy about something (Ophelia) and shooed them out.</p><p>“We’ll see you later, Cal,” Ophelia said, trying for a despairing tone, but the glint in her eye betrayed the excitement coursing through her veins.</p><p>“Stay fresh,” said Leilani, following her out the door.</p><p>“Would you like me to bring you something?” asked Fergus.</p><p>“Try and have a nap,” Alby suggested. “That’s what Lily does.”</p><p>Caldwell watched them go. He turned his head in Mrs Diamandis’s direction when she spoke up.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, dear. If I’d known I wouldn’t have let you near them cookies.”</p><p>He smiled at her. “It’s not your fault, Mam. Your cookies are heaven on a plate.”</p><p>She sniffled, patting his head twice before bustling out of the room. “I’ll see what I can get to make you more comfortable.”</p><p>If there was any good to have come out of this frankly awful situation, Caldwell didn’t have to do sleuthing of any sort that evening. But as the pain in his stomach reached a crescendo, he couldn’t help but think walking around the carnival didn’t seem so bad as it had previously. If anything, it was growing on him.</p><p>Sleep wasn’t an option, no matter what Alby’s sister, Lily said, so he settled on watching a film on his phone. It didn’t have swash-buckling pirates or lassoing cowboys, but it kept his mind off the pain, somewhat.</p><p>He spitefully hoped they didn’t find a helicopter, just so he could share this discomfort with someone. Then again, he thought he was coping better with the stomach pain than Ophelia would with discovering she was wrong about the helicopter. But he could dream.</p><p>When the film ended, he selected another. The swelling was so bad now he resembled a pregnant woman in her third month. Those cookies could die an excruciating death.</p><p>By the time the clock on his phone read ten-thirty, Caldwell was fully under the covers of his bed, cheeks flushed and so uncomfortable he couldn’t bear to move.</p><p>Footsteps sounded in the corridor along with hushed voices. He could hear the exuberant tone underlying each word whispered outside his door, muffled laughing.</p><p>“He might be sleeping,” someone whispered, amid a thumping sound.</p><p>“Just open the door a little to check,” someone else replied.</p><p>He wanted to sit up in bed, if he could, and tell them he could hear what they were saying, that they weren’t as quiet as they undoubtedly thought they were.</p><p>The door creaked open and Leilani popped her head into the room, hair piled high on her head in a messy bun.</p><p>“Caldwell,” she said softly, “you awake? We have such good news—Ophelia is going to wet herself if she can’t tell you.”</p><p>For a brief moment he contemplated feigning sleep, then lifted a hand in a ‘come hither’ gesture.</p><p>“He summons,” Leilani told the others, cracking the door wider.</p><p>Ophelia burst into the room in a tornado of enthusiasm, excitement and limbs.</p><p>“You’ll never guess what we found, Cal!” she cried. She settled on the floor beside his bed, where his face was poking out of the covers.</p><p>He grunted, and she took that as an introduction to continue.</p><p>“It’s real, Cal! The helicopter, it’s <em>real</em>.” A huge smile danced on her face.</p><p>Caldwell shifted in the bed. “Most helicopters are. Were you expecting a Lego-set one?”</p><p>She ignored him in favour of rocking back and forth on the carpet, arms cradling her legs. “You should’ve seen it. Well,” Ophelia amended, “not <em>seen</em>, but heard. It was directly above the carnival when the lights went out. By the way, did the lights go out here?”</p><p>Caldwell nodded.</p><p>“Of course, we still don’t know why it was there,” she continued, “but we sure are one step closer to unravelling something.”</p><p>Privately, the only unravelling Caldwell was truly expecting to see was her own when the mystery turned out to have a perfectly logical explanation. There would be tears- the first stage of grief. Then finding another abnormal occurrence—the next stage in Ophelia’s grief and acceptance. Quitting wasn’t one of them.</p><p>“We were worried about you,” she told him, when the glimmer in her eyes had diffused somewhat. She leaned closer. “Especially <em>some</em> of us,” she whispered, gravely.</p><p>He accepted this without denial. Why wouldn’t they worry about him? He was a crucial member of the gang. A <em>loved</em> member, thank you very much.</p><p>Alby moved nearer to the bed. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Terrible. I hope you all didn’t have as much fun as Ophelia seems to have had.”</p><p>“We didn’t,” Fergus assured him, risking a scowl from Ophelia and patting a part of the bed he thought was one of Caldwell’s limbs. Caldwell didn’t tell him he was patting a pillow, didn’t have the energy.</p><p>A snort sounded from Ophelia’s right. “<em>I</em> had fun working in my stall,” Milo declared. “Although not as much fun if cookie-boy here was around to torment.”</p><p>Caldwell poked his head out from under the covers to glare in his direction.</p><p>“But, really,” Milo sobered, “are you okay? Did Mrs Diamandis get you anything? There’s a small 24/7 store around the corner I can walk to if you need something? Do you—”</p><p>Caldwell’s mouth curved into a small smile. “I’m okay. I had some ginger tea—” he gestured to the bedside table that had a blue china mug, and Alby made an approving sound, “—so all I need to do is wait it out.”</p><p>Milo froze for a moment, so quick it was a ‘blink-and-you-miss-it’ movement. “Okay,” he said eventually, and relaxed. “Okay.”</p><p>Leilani raised an eyebrow, then commented, “Now that we know it’s a helicopter,” she shot a smug look in Milo’s direction, “we need to come up with a plan to figure out what connection it has with the lights.”</p><p>“If there’s a connection,” Caldwell muttered.</p><p>“What if we could somehow find out how the lights are turned off?” Alby said. “If we could find the source and prevent the power cut, we could see how that affects the helicopter’s positioning.”</p><p>Ophelia considered him thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea. We could even cut the power randomly and see how the carnival reacts.”</p><p>Caldwell and Fergus shared a dark look. “<em>We</em>,” Fergus mocked quietly.</p><p>Caldwell contemplated eating another cookie. As if reading his thoughts, Ophelia gently chided him.</p><p>“You’ll be fine by tomorrow evening,” she had the audacity to tell him—as if she knew his body better than he did, which she most certainly didn’t. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”</p><p>Leilani snickered, rolling a cigarette between her thumb and forefinger.</p><p>“This seems more dangerous than what we’ve been doing,” Fergus remarked softly, worry settling into his body.</p><p>“I’ll keep an eye on you, too.” Ophelia didn’t reach over to pat him, but her eyes softened when she glanced at him. “As will everyone else.”</p><p>“Right,” said Leilani.</p><p>“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Caldwell protested.</p><p>“No offense,” said Alby, “but it isn’t a bodyguard; it’s a babysitter.”</p><p>Caldwell sank into his covers, glowering and regretting ever taking up with this particular group of individuals.</p><p>“I could’ve been friends with Tracy,” he mumbled under the duvet. “Why couldn’t I have been friends with Tracy and her friends.”</p><p>“Because then you would have to be friends with Julie, and there would sooner be water in Africa than you two getting along,” said Leilani, indelicately.</p><p>Milo lifted his head. “Why is that?”</p><p>Leilani smiled evilly.</p><p>“Julie’s his ex,” Ophelia said dismissively.</p><p>Milo ducked his head suddenly. “Lovely girl?” he asked.</p><p>“No,” said Caldwell, under his duvet. “I should’ve dated Jason when I had the chance.”</p><p>Ophelia glared at him. “You should not have!”</p><p>“Jason’s her brother,” Leilani told Milo, helpfully.</p><p>“He is way too old for you and besides, he’s totally over you.”</p><p>Caldwell snorted, wincing when the pain around his stomach amplified. “Yeah, right.”</p><p>“Jason liked him for two seconds last year,” Leilani told Milo. “Then he went to college and grew up.”</p><p>“I’m tired of this conversation,” Caldwell announced, “and my body hurts. Go away.”</p><p>He ignored Milo watching him with thinly veiled amusement, and he ignored everyone else as they traipsed out of the room, Leilani complaining that he wasn’t even tired.</p><p>He heard Alby and Fergus murmuring goodnights to the girls and Milo, then went back to watching a film on his phone.</p><p>“Such a little shit,” Alby told Fergus under his breath, and Fergus didn’t nod, but he did smile.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. An Emphasis on Caldwell Hates Sleuthing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Caldwell’s stomach still hurt, perhaps not as much as he told Ophelia, but it still <em>bothered</em> him. He was all for spending the next day on the downlow (which translated to anywhere but the carnival) but Ophelia was of a different mind.</p><p>“I understand that you’re under the weather-” she most definitely didn’t, “-and your stomach hurts, but you can still help out. I’ll put you on carnival duty to avoid any excitement. All you have to do is walk around.”</p><p>Walking around was definitely not the only thing he’d have to do, which became startlingly crystal clear when Milo got out of Misty alongside him when Ophelia dropped him off at Checker’s.</p><p>“What do you think you’re doing?” said Caldwell, calmly. Internally, he was raging.</p><p>“Walking,” Milo replied, falling into step beside him. “That’s what Ophelia told us to do.”</p><p>“Ahaha, no. Correction: that’s what Ophelia told <em>me</em> to do. That doesn’t explain why I have a rat following me.”</p><p>“A Pied Piper reference, nice.”</p><p>“No, a bubonic plague reference,” Caldwell said. “You make me ill.”</p><p>Milo studied his side profile. “You really don’t like me: why?”</p><p>There were a lot of things Caldwell could’ve responded with—he was picky and petty and very capable of hating someone for something as insignificant as the pattern of their socks. Goodness knows how he put up with Alby. The problem was that his brain short-circuited, and instead of selecting one of those things, he blurted out: “Smug bastard.”</p><p>Milo looked surprized, then mischievous. “I’m self-confident. Why would that bug you? Unless,” he leaned closer to Caldwell, so they were almost at eye level, “it doesn’t annoy you so much as fluster you.”</p><p>“No,” snapped Caldwell, very much flustered, “it’s very much annoying. Now that we’re both stuck here, what’s the plan for this evening?”</p><p>They passed the Merry-go-round with screaming children clinging to black and white chequered horses, sunburnt parents watching, arms filled with wrappers, stuffed animals and cheap, plastic toys.</p><p>“Ophelia literally said walk around. In the mean time she’s checking out the substation for any gaps in the fence.” Milo smiled down at a sticky little girl who bumped into his leg. She offered him a toothy grin in response, rushing to keep up with her parents. “Because the power cut is across Derny, she doesn’t think it has anything to do with flicking a switch on the carnival grounds.”</p><p>“You can do that at a substation?”</p><p>“Theoretically, but you need access and clearance. She thinks someone might be breaking in to switch the power off each night.”</p><p>Caldwell frowned. “Surely someone would wise up to that? Power cuts have to be bad for hospitals and restaurants.”</p><p>“There’s one hospital in Derny,” said Milo, “but it’ll have generators. Same for restaurants. The power cut is more of an inconvenience for the general public and even then, it’s only for a minute.”</p><p>“So, not worth getting worked up about,” said Caldwell. He considered the situation. It seemed like someone—whoever they were—was putting in a lot of effort to switch the town’s lights off. But why? What were they getting out of it?</p><p>Milo nudged him. “You want to try some of the stalls? There’s a coconut shy just around the Merry-go-round.”</p><p>Caldwell told him that was a very bad idea, giving Milo the impression he just didn’t want to do anything with him. Caldwell let him think that; the truth was, his motor skills had ceased developing by the time he was seven.</p><p>In the end, Milo managed to drag him around half of the carnival and participate in at least a quarter of the activities. The fact that Milo was very charming and knew most of the carnival’s employees despite having worked there for just over two weeks resulted in them spending half the amount of money usually required. Bargain.</p><p>“Shut up,” said Caldwell, as Milo’s lips twitched when he missed the little duck for the third time in a row. “I’m trying to concentrate.”</p><p>“I’m sure it’s just your stomach. Otherwise you’d have hit at least one of them,” Milo said, mouth giving into a huge grin at last as the time ran out.</p><p>Caldwell put the gun down with very bad grace. The employee watched him warily, hands up in the air as if guarding against a wild animal.</p><p>Milo smiled apologetically at her and pulled him away into the crowd. It was nearing half nine, but people were still out in force—however this crowd consisted more of teenagers than the earlier ones did.</p><p>Now that it was dark, each stall was decked in glowing lights that emanated from the unlikeliest of places: along the counter, up the supporting beams and across the front.</p><p>Faces were bathed in the artificial light, emitting their own glow of excitement as they dragged their friends toward different rides.</p><p>“How long are you staying for?” Milo asked suddenly, turning to him.</p><p>Caldwell watched a particularly boisterous girl coral her friends up and into a towering ride decorated with tiger pictures. The Roar, it was called. “Ophelia booked our rooms for a week, but I heard her telling Alby that she might further our stay. Maybe another week? I don’t know.”</p><p>“Would you rather go back home after the original week is over?” He sounded oddly curious, but then, he was always asking questions.</p><p>“I’m fine whatever happens, I guess. I’d be dragged into some kind of sleuthing no matter where I was. At least I can’t bump into people I know here.”</p><p>Milo chuckled. “Like Julie?”</p><p>Caldwell looked up at him when his tone fell flat. “Among others. Most people annoy me.”</p><p>“I never would have guessed.”</p><p>“That was a jab at you, in case you didn’t notice,” said Caldwell. He traced the moles above his upper lip. One for each second he thought. “Let’s get somewhere we won’t be trampled when the lights go out.”</p><p>He led the way past a stall selling hot chips, stomach and nose betraying him. They each got a black-and-white cardboard carton of chips—Caldwell doused his in ketchup while Milo looked on distastefully—and searched for a picnic bench.</p><p>“I know a place,” Milo mentioned, huffing around the too-hot chip he’d stuffed in his mouth. Caldwell, privately, took an embarrassingly large amount of pleasure in this. “Now I’m the Piper and you’re the rat.”</p><p>“Nuhuh,” said Caldwell with his mouth full. “Once a rat, always a rat. That’s what they say.”</p><p>Milo spared an amused glance at him, but didn’t say anything.</p><p>They weaved through a group of loud teenagers, who could be heard over the increasing music of the carnival—no mean feat. In films, to show the main character is disoriented, there’ll always be flashing lights that reflect off people’s faces, an unfocused camera that switches from object to blurry object, and loud music that threatens to take over, malforming in such a way one feels as if they can touch and taste it as well as hear it. That’s what standing in the middle of Checker’s carnival felt like.</p><p>Sticking another chip in his mouth and licking his salty fingers, Caldwell couldn’t tell his right from his left, up from his down. Absently, he wondered why the music never seemed to stop. Never seemed to stop wrapping him up in a tight cocoon and then unravelling, only to repeat the process.</p><p>“You okay, Cece?”</p><p>Caldwell focused on Milo’s pensive face. “Cece?”</p><p>“Celiac. It’s ludicrously simple.” Milo grinned teasingly, and pointed somewhere to his right. But it was disproportionately up, up, up, and Caldwell tilted his head.</p><p>“Nuhuh.” He glanced back at the taller boy. “We <em>can’t</em>. What if the power goes out while we’re up there? We’ll be stuck.”</p><p>Slowly, Milo shook his head, saying, “It’s only a minute. And besides, it’s not like the whole thing’s going to come apart just because the power’s off. We’ll be fine.”</p><p>He held Caldwell’s gaze. “There’s less people…”</p><p>“Fine,” said Caldwell. “Only because death and I are close friends.” And because he’d definitely planned on going on the Ferris wheel at least once this trip.</p><p>They walked up to the gate, expecting there to be a line.</p><p>“This is easy,” Milo remarked, surprized. He went up to the booth and peered into its shadowy interior. “Hello?”</p><p>“Ride’s closed,” said a gruff voice.</p><p>Milo’s face morphed into confusion. “The wheel’s moving, though, Stevie? What do you mean?”</p><p>Stevie—apparently—didn’t bother coming into the light, staying shadowed, and if Caldwell said so himself, roleplaying as a vampire in an extremely creepy, un-cosplay-like manner. “Like I said: ride’s closed. Sorry, kid.”</p><p>Caldwell shrugged and turned to go, too apathetic to mention the lack of any such sign. You win some, you lose some. After a moment, Milo followed, still confused.</p><p>“Mr Czechowski never said anything about the ride closing early.” He ran a hand through his curly brown hair. “This is out of character for him- he’s a businessman. Always out to make the easiest dollar.”</p><p>“Your friend appeared pretty adamant. Why would he lie?”</p><p>“I don’t know. He’s been working here for a while, though. Must know what’s he’s doing.”</p><p>“Sure,” said Caldwell. He swallowed another chip. “He called you kid. How does that feel?”</p><p>Milo glanced back at the ticket booth. “Honestly? Not like much, because I don’t get wound up by simple words like you do.”</p><p>“I do <em>not</em>,” Caldwell snapped. He chucked a chip at him. “Now what?”</p><p>Milo wasn’t looking at him. “When I tell you to run, run. And keep quiet. It’s hard for you, I know.”</p><p>Caldwell opened his mouth to retort.</p><p>“Run,” said Milo. Suddenly Caldwell’s hand was gripped in Milo’s, and he was pulled at such a pace he thought his limb would be wrenched off. Milo dodged around the back of the ticket booth that was shrouded in darkness and leapt into one of the Ferris wheel’s carriages, as it paused in its continuous circular motion.</p><p>Sparing a quick glance back at the ticket booth where no one had run out screaming, he pulled Caldwell the rest of the way into the carriage and slumped onto the floor.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Caldwell hissed. He liked adventure as much as the next person, (unless the next person was Ophelia Johnson) but this was overwhelming. “We’re going to be arrested.”</p><p>“He didn’t see us,” said Milo, eyes twinkling and voice breathless. “I think.”</p><p>Caldwell shook his head and slowly eased his head up to peer over the side of the carriage. “You’re going to get fired. Say bye-bye road trip.”</p><p>Milo sat up so his body was beside Caldwell’s. He looked over the edge of the carriage, black t-shirt blending into the darkness. The Ferris wheel began to move, black-and-white chequered carriages moving in unison as if to a silent melody. The carriage they were in slowly lifted into the dark night where all the glowing lights of the carnival couldn’t reach.</p><p>“There’s nobody else on the Ferris wheel,” Milo remarked, craning his neck for a view of the other carriages. “At least, I can’t see anybody else. Weird.”</p><p>“You spilt my chips,” said Caldwell, moodily. He gazed forlornly at the near-empty carton. It would look nice slamming against the back of Milo’s head, but the problem was that Milo was facing him with his eyes trained somewhere on Caldwell’s face, and even someone with a monumental launching ability would struggle looping an object <em>around</em> a person. Unless it was a boomerang. It brought a certain pang to his soul.</p><p>“You’ve already stuffed your face with most of them,” Milo replied. He gestured to something below them. “We’re not too far up that we can see the stall I work at. See, there.”</p><p>How on earth he could pick it out from a sea of black and white, Caldwell didn’t know.</p><p>“What do we do now?”</p><p>It was dark, but the twinkle in Milo’s eyes was unmistakeable. “We wait.”</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Milo stretched out his legs in the bottom of the carriage, “what do people usually wait for?”</p><p>Caldwell thought about it. If you were Fergus, you spent your whole life waiting: for a family, for a home, someone to love you. If you were Alby, you would wait for the one day you’d be in the spotlight, when everybody and somebody would notice you. If you were Ophelia, (and God help you if you were) you were waiting for the moment everyone would take you seriously—not as in believing in you, but believing that science and mystery can co-exist, that sometimes it’s okay to be a little curious about something that doesn’t seem a big deal.</p><p>“I’m waiting for when I can eventually go back to the lodge,” he said finally. “You’re annoying.”</p><p>“I’m getting an intense feeling of déjà vu.” Milo sat back on his hands and grinned lazily at him.</p><p>“I hope Ophelia got stuck in the fence.” Caldwell shifted to lie in the bottom of the carriage, pushing aside any and all safety concerns. Milo lay down beside him. They watched the stars and each other.</p><p>“Ophelia definitely didn’t get stuck in the fence. Alby, however…”</p><p>“Alby’s a good kid.”</p><p>The carriage swung up and up, slowly, dreamily.</p><p>“Of course he is. Did you guys ever…”</p><p>Caldwell almost sat up. “No. Not ever.”</p><p>The air around Milo shifted imperceptibly. Almost. “Okay,” he said, and his eyes and nose ring twinkled impossibly.</p><p>Even the music of the carnival could reach them better than the lights, but even then, it was soft and muted, as if heard from underwater.</p><p>“I hate mysteries,” Caldwell heard himself saying. “What does that say about me?”</p><p>Milo traced a pattern into the wood beneath his body. “That you’re a terrible Doctor Watson.”</p><p>Caldwell fake-gasped. “I’m not a sidekick!”</p><p>“It’s Ophelia’s world and we’re all living in it. If it makes you feel better,” Milo murmured, “there’s tiers. You may not have reached Watson-tier, but you’re securely at Sancho Panza-tier.”</p><p>“Thanks,” said Caldwell. “I’m loyal, but dumb. Don’t I feel it. Where are we again?”</p><p>Milo chuckled warmly.</p><p>When he was younger, his mother and father told Caldwell they weren’t going to have any more children, sitting him down on the red couch his father had won at an auction. He wasn’t particularly bothered; he had company enough, perhaps more than he would’ve liked with his parents, grandfather and two best friends in elementary. But all when all things were said and done, and five-year-old Caldwell had said and done a lot of things, he found himself missing something. It wasn’t certain a hypothetical sibling would suddenly solve that longing by simply materialising, but he found himself longing for a feeling. A cocoon he could wrap himself in without feeling claustrophobic.</p><p>Lying in the bottom of the carriage now, Caldwell reckoned he’d found the feeling. It was comfortable and easy. Something he could co-exist with and not worry too much, be threated by too much. It was a feeling that you didn’t need to think about. And that was calming.</p><p>“When the lights go out, I’m going to toss you out of the carriage.”</p><p>Milo snorted. “You couldn’t.”</p><p>He very much could, thank you very much.</p><p>“I’m not worried,” said Milo, and as if to prove his point, made to stand up. Caldwell quickly grabbed onto the hem of his t-shirt and tugged him down.</p><p>“What’s your full name?” Caldwell asked, out of the blue.</p><p>The other boy sighed. “You’ll laugh.”</p><p>“Is it bad?”</p><p>“Milo Theophilus Love. I’ll let you decide.”</p><p>Caldwell was startled into laughter. “And yet you still carry yourself like you’re God’s gift to mankind. Then again, you’d have to have self-confidence just to <em>cope</em>.”</p><p>“Thanks,” said Milo. “I have a mentally repressed childhood.”</p><p>“Milo Theophilus Love,” Caldwell continued, gleefully. “If only we’d been in the same middle school. So many lost years.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Milo, quietly.</p><p>Caldwell glanced at him. “Do any of the others know?” He cackled when Milo shook his head. “I’m so happy.”</p><p>“Okay, then. What’s your full name, hotshot?”</p><p>Caldwell was just about to open his mouth and kindly tell him it was absolutely none of his business—in the nicest way possible—when a thrumming noise assaulted his ears.</p><p>They both sat up, sharing a puzzled glance, Milo’s verging more on worried. As the carriage lifted, the noise became clearer, closer. It was a chopping sound, like the air was beating.</p><p>“Helicopter,” Milo said, grimly. “It has to be.”</p><p>“Can you see where it is?” Caldwell debated sending up a quick prayer when he felt the carriage sway unnaturally.</p><p>They peered up into the night sky in different directions.</p><p>Milo let out a sharp noise and grabbed onto Caldwell’s arm. “Get down!”</p><p>They pasted themselves against the bottom of the carriage, and Caldwell pushed aside the pang of pain that shot up his arm. It was trapped beneath his body, against the hard wood at an uncomfortable angle.</p><p>Like a speaker under water, the sound pulsated through the air, louder and louder until:</p><p>“Is it above us?” Caldwell whispered, horrified. He didn’t dare to look. He felt the body beside him shift.</p><p>“I think so,” Milo whispered back, his breath bated. He kept his eyes trained skyward; ears perked to capture any sound that bled through the night.</p><p>Suddenly, the lights went out. They could tell because the glow that cradled the exterior of the carriage was extinguished, leaving a pitch black. Cries amidst the usual crazed music filtered up from the carnival grounds, reaching their ears faintly.</p><p>Caldwell shifted closer to Milo, taking care to move silently. “What time is it?”</p><p>Milo cautiously slid his phone out of his jeans’ pocket, tilting the screen downward and checking the clock. “Ten on the dot,” he whispered. “People with OCD must be loving this. I think it’s above us, to the right.”</p><p>They were one carriage from the top of the Ferris wheel, jerked to a halt as the power went out. The helicopter paused in its trajectory directly above the Ferris wheel, but it was too dark to make anything out except for the distorted shape its blades made in the air. The manic music of the carnival rides still played, and Caldwell struggled to regain the chopping sound. Once you heard it, it was difficult to stay focused on it, the noise pollution wreaking havoc with one’s senses.</p><p>A minute passed in tortured silence between both of the boys. Caldwell desperately wanted to move his arm but didn’t trust himself to move. Strictly speaking, they didn’t <em>have</em> to hide, but the nature of the darkness and the blaring music made everything seem eerie and criminalistic. Something told him that being seen by the helicopter would be a bad thing.</p><p>“It’s gone,” said Milo distantly, sitting up in the carriage once the lights had blinked back into existence and the wheel had started moving upward again. He glanced at his phone screen. “Wait ‘til Ophelia hears about this.”</p><p>“I don’t need to.” Caldwell rubbed his arm mournfully. “I can picture it within a degree of accuracy.”</p><p>He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head. Now that the lights had turned on, the crowds below had resumed milling about like ants, visiting stall after stall and ride after ride.</p><p>“Why the fuck would it target a Ferris wheel?” he asked, words filling the air between them.</p><p>Milo glanced one last time at his phone before slipping it into his back pocket. “I would very much like to know. The Ferris wheel already gives you a bird’s eye view of the carnival.”</p><p>“I doubt the helicopter was out for sight-seeing, Milo,” Caldwell commented, a little crossly.</p><p>“Isn’t that what I said? What we can do is look up the nearest airport to Derny. Helicopters don’t necessarily have to take off from airports, I don’t think, but it can’t hurt to check recent air activity.”</p><p>They spent the rest of the descent lost in speculations of why exactly the helicopter had chosen to arrive at the carnival. The closer to the ground they got, the wilder, more ridiculous the suggestions got.</p><p>“I don’t think it came to steal all the candyfloss,” Caldwell stated, between gulps of laughter.</p><p>Milo paused, mock-offended. “Why not? It’s damn good candyfloss.”</p><p>“It’s passable,” Caldwell muttered, eying Stevie’s ticket booth with some trepidation. “Did you stop to consider how we would escape the Ferris wheel once you launched us on it, or was it a spur of the moment thing?”</p><p>The sheepish expression on Milo’s face was answer enough.</p><p>“We just need to sneak off. The real concern is trying to get you past the food stalls. Your stomach may still be painful, but it sure doesn’t seem like it.”</p><p>Caldwell watched him as he prepared to jump out, affronted. The sound of heavy footsteps striding over the landing platform had him hurriedly twisting back into the bottom of the carriage, breathing harshly.</p><p>This was it, Caldwell thought. No more mysteries, no more stomach bloating, no more DIY backyard bombs. His mortal reign was coming to a swift, anti-climatic end. He’d kinda hoped there’d be more celestial singing, or angels playing harps in the background. Well, you couldn’t have everything, clearly. But he had admittedly expected something a bit <em>more</em> from Heaven.</p><p>The person stopped in front of them, at the carriage before theirs and fiddled with something. He couldn’t see what was going on due to the angle, lying silently on his front and hoping the person would finish what they were doing quickly and retreat. Preferably with heavy footsteps again, so they’d know when it was safe to make a dash for it.</p><p>“I think they’re gone,” Milo whispered at last, and cautiously, slowly creeped into a sitting position. “Okay, go.”</p><p>They charged over the side of the carriage and across the landing, leaping onto the grassy ground and sprinting to safety. Milo had grabbed hold of Caldwell’s wrist again and was loosely dragging him along.</p><p>When they’d covered at least ten yards, Milo slowed to a stop, chest heaving in exhilaration. Caldwell narrowly avoided bumping into him, swerving at the last second and disappearing for a few moments into a bush.</p><p>“I’m never doing that again,” he declared hotly, wading out of the vegetation. He brushed himself down, dislodging a few twigs and leaves. “Call me old-fashioned, but I like to find my adrenaline the traditional way: by blowing up stuff.”</p><p>“That might explain why the ride was closed,” Milo remarked, thoughtfully. “So that no one could get close and personal with the helicopter.” He peered at Caldwell and grinned. “There’s a remnant of Mother nature in your hair.”</p><p>Caldwell sifted a hand through wavy strands, but it came away empty. Milo gestured to move forward, and reached over to gently tug a leaf out. He stepped back as if it had burned him, tossing the leaf to the ground and turning away.</p><p>“I get to tell Ophelia,” Caldwell announced, to dispel the momentary awkwardness. He tugged at the cuffs of his hoodie, covering his hands. “The least you can do is let me after tonight’s ordeal.” He sped up to fall into step with Milo and looked up at him. “Do we have a deal?”</p><p>An air of amusement wafted around Milo. “I’m making no such promises. Sleuthing is sleuthing. Respect the hustle.”</p><p>“Oh no,” Caldwell laughed shortly and stopped. Milo paused as well and looked at him questioningly. “What we’re not going to do is pretend we knew the helicopter was paying a little visit to the Ferris wheel all along. Didn’t your mother inform you lying was a sin? Heathen.”</p><p>A grin tugged at Milo’s mouth. “Is that what I am now? I gotta say, I preferred rat more, Cece.”</p><p>“A heathen rat, then, if it gets you to shut up.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>By the time Misty glided to a stop outside the carnival’s entrance gates, Caldwell was beginning to feel a little drowsy, propped up against a vacant stall so he wouldn’t face plant and embarrass himself in front of the other fairgoers retiring for the night.</p><p>“There they are,” said Milo, spotting the yellow car and moving away from the stall. Determined to get to the car first, Caldwell broke into a stumbling run, nearly getting hit by a teenager on a scooter.</p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here,” he told the others breathlessly, swinging the door open and climbing in. Fergus allowed him to plop half in his lap, making a small noise of discomfort and then settling.</p><p>“Have you got the hounds of Baskerville on your heels?” Ophelia asked, peering at him in the rear-view mirror.</p><p>“No, just me,” said Milo, slipping into the backseat next to Leilani. Alby was sat in the front with Ophelia. “Man, do we have news for y—”</p><p>Caldwell blurted, “We saw the helicopter, Ophelia!”</p><p>“Lies,” Milo said, smoothly. He continued, “We <em>heard</em> the helicopter from about twenty feet away. On the Ferris wheel.”</p><p>“Oh! What a brilliant idea.” Ophelia manoeuvred Misty out of the make-shift carpark, turning left onto a main road. Milo leant around Leilani to peer smugly at Caldwell. “I’m glad you have news; we had a rather disappointing night.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Leilani spoke up. “She dropped me and Fergus off at a random location for three hours. Didn’t see or hear anything.”</p><p>“I heard you complaining,” Fergus muttered into Caldwell’s shoulder.</p><p>Milo told the rest of the group what had happened, Ophelia growing more and more excited.</p><p>“And you said someone checked on the carriages after?” she asked. Her eyes glittered behind her glasses. “That seems like they’re hiding something—whoever they are. I wish we’d gotten more detail on the substation.”</p><p>“What happened with that?”</p><p>She glanced at Caldwell in the mirror. “Me and Alby scoped the perimeter but couldn’t find a way in. A whole section of the fence was covered by thick bushes and trees. We couldn’t get through it if we tried.”</p><p>“And we tried,” Alby added, morosely. When the car passed a streetlight, Caldwell could pick up the long pink scratches up his arms. “It seems like the only way in would be through the gate.”</p><p>Leilani wrinkled her nose. “That’s so…normal.”</p><p>Ophelia sighed and pulled into the lodge’s parking area. “Tell me about it. Tomorrow we’ll do what Milo suggested: visit the nearest airport, and hopefully someone will throw us a bone.”</p><p>“I’m guessing we’ll be staying here a little longer than we planned,” Leilani remarked.</p><p>A smile crept onto Ophelia’s face. “We sure are.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Rattled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t you think it’ll look a little suspicious if we all go in?” Alby said aloud.</p><p>They were sitting, cramped up, in Misty outside the airport. When they’d got back to their rooms last night, Ophelia had looked up the nearest airport to Derny, which happened to be a half hour ride away. Berley Airport, it was called: a smallish airport with neat grounds and a carefully laid out carpark. Everything looked like it had been set up according to a set of blueprints—from the runway itself to the three recycling trash cans placed in a neat row outside the automatic doors.</p><p>It was clean and orderly.</p><p>Leilani balanced herself in the gap between the front seats. “What’ll look suspicious—having friends? She snorted. “All we need to do is go to the nice person working at the front desk and politely ask for a record of the flights that took off during the past two weeks. Easy.”</p><p>“Okay,” said Ophelia, “I’ll go ask with one or two of you, and the rest can check out the airport. Maybe you’ll be able to get a view of all the aircraft out on the tarmac. Leilani and Fergus, you’re with me.”</p><p>“I want to look at the planes,” said Leilani.</p><p>Fergus shifted closer to Caldwell, which was unnecessary due to the already claustrophobic proximity between everyone in the car.</p><p>Ophelia plucked her phone from the driver’s door and got out the car.</p><p>“I’ve only been on a plane twice,” Milo commented, peering up at the white building. They approached the entrance, which had a neat, unthreatening sign reading ‘Berley Airport. Enjoy your stay’ in gold writing.</p><p>“I’ve been on a plane five times,” Fergus said, quietly.</p><p>“Sorry,” Milo said as they stepped into the lobby area, “I wasn’t aware it was a competition.” But he was smiling widely, and when Caldwell glanced at Fergus, it was with surprize because Fergus was wearing a matching expression.</p><p>Ophelia broke away from the group, ordering, “Go find me that helicopter,” Alby falling into step beside her.</p><p>“She does realise they’re not always out on the tarmac, right?” Leilani pointed at a sign that informed them the viewing deck was accessible to the left. “They sleep in garages or whatever those buildings are called.”</p><p>“Hangar,” said Caldwell. He was into Marvel.</p><p>“Nursery,” said Milo. He was into being an annoying shit.</p><p>They traipsed up the flight of stairs leading to the viewing deck. For it being the summer, the building wasn’t extremely busy—people milling about here and there, clutching boarding passes or takeaway cartons.</p><p>The window of the viewing deck was massive- as it should be- but the glass was impeccable, free from fingerprints and smudges. Caldwell peered out onto the runway. There were five planes standing in a line. Waiting? Resting?</p><p>“Which is your favourite?” he asked Fergus, softly.</p><p>He pointed to the plane furthest from them, with orange stripes running along its stabilisers.</p><p>Caldwell nodded approvingly. His favourite was the one with blue and yellow stripes.</p><p>“There’s only planes out here. Public ones.” Milo absently fiddled with his nose ring. “The helicopter would be for private flights. I don’t think it would be owned by an airline.”</p><p>“If you’d known that the whole time, why would you make us take the stairs?” Leilani snapped. Her hands disappeared into the pockets of her leather jacket for a moment.</p><p>Caldwell huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Another occurrence of us sleuthing without discovering anything. What a surprise.”</p><p>Milo watched him, amusement clouding his features. “Fergus liked the planes.”</p><p>“I did,” Fergus said, solemnly. “When are we getting lunch?”</p><p>Leilani checked her phone. Her black case had a skull, with two roses crossed beneath it. She thought she was edgy. Caldwell thought she was pretentious.</p><p>“It’s almost midday,” she noted, then turned to Milo. “What time do you need to be back for your shift?”</p><p>He dragged his eyes away from the window. “I start at three, but Ophelia said that you guys can drop me straight there if we get caught up here. I have all my stuff.”</p><p>“Joy,” Caldwell muttered.</p><p>Leilani led the way back down the stairs, long dark hair flowing down her back. It swished with every move she made, and Caldwell thought she secretly liked the idea of it sounding like a whip.</p><p>Ophelia and Alby were standing at a desk when they reached the ground floor. Ophelia was gesturing flamboyantly as the receptionist looked on warily. He pointed at something on his screen, shoulders dropping in a shrug. Alby interjected, placing a hand on her arm and smiling serenely at the apologetic man seated behind the desk. The receptionist nodded silently for a minute, then handed Alby a sheet of paper.</p><p>From where they were standing, Caldwell couldn’t make out what was freshly printed onto it. Thanking the man politely, Alby turned away from the desk, saying something quietly to Ophelia. She shrugged and thanked the man, smile dropping the instant she moved away.</p><p>“What was that about?” Leilani asked curiously, pointing subtly in the receptionist’s direction.</p><p>Ophelia huffed. “They only give out information about passenger flights.” She nodded to the paper in Alby’s hand. “That sheet has all the commercial flights that took off in the past week. Not a big help.”</p><p>“It’s quite a lot of flights for a small airport,” Alby remarked.</p><p>Tilting his head back, Caldwell surveyed the lobby area. “It’s not that small.”</p><p>“That’s what <em>he</em> said,” Milo mumbled, and Leilani sniggered.</p><p>“Small or not, we’re not getting anywhere here. Let’s just get something to eat and then go.”</p><p>Fergus regarded Ophelia not unlike someone may have looked at Jesus when he performed the miracle of the five thousand.</p><p>There was a Taco Bell on the first floor, and they grabbed a corner table at the back, filing in despondently.</p><p>“We’ve still got tonight,” Alby said, trying desperately to raise everybody’s spirits. Ophelia looked like she wanted to drown herself in spirits.</p><p>“That’s true,” Leilani replied, perking up. “We haven’t hit a dead end completely. I’m getting a burrito.”</p><p>Caldwell glanced at the menu board dispassionately. It was a wonder he was able to eat so soon after his little episode. “I guess it’s fries for me. You brought me to the worst possible place, you realise? They don’t do anything nice gluten-free. Even the fries are a risk.”</p><p>“Quit whining,” Leilani said, slurping on her soda.</p><p>“Milo’s working, so that rules him out,” Ophelia thought aloud, “and Caldwell and Fergus will be absolutely no help on the Ferris wheel—”</p><p>“Caldwell was alright when he was with me,” Milo interjected.</p><p>“—so, Leilani or Alby. One of you will come with me.”</p><p>“Dibs,” Leilani called out. She shot a triumphant look at Alby.</p><p>Caldwell pursed his lips. “You’re going to get caught. What’s the likelihood we stow away in the Ferris wheel two nights in a row without running into trouble?”</p><p>Ophelia waved her hand at him. “It’ll be fine. What if we had one more person in another carriage?”</p><p>“Tempting fate.”</p><p>“But if you can get two people on, why not three?”</p><p>Leilani cackled. “Yeah, Caldwell counts for two people, anyway. Not for height,” she informed him when he opened his mouth, “you’re still small. Just sheer risk factor.”</p><p>“I’m 5’8,” Caldwell replied hotly. That wasn’t short at all.</p><p>“If it’s Alby as the third person it might work.” Ophelia took a sip of her drink, humming around the straw.</p><p>They ordered their food and tucked in.</p><p>“This is really nice,” Leilani told Caldwell, dangling her burrito in his face. He smacked it away and a bit of lettuce flung out and dropped onto the table. She gave him a dirty look. “Those must be really filling.”</p><p>He looked down at his plate then back at her. He’d already eaten over half of his fries and was still hungry. He refused to give her the satisfaction, however. “I’m fine, actually.”</p><p>A quick movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, but he was too slow to catch anything. When he glanced back down at his plate, Caldwell almost did a double take. He could’ve sworn he had less fries than that. He looked up, but everyone was engrossed in eating, the only movement being Milo turning away to re-join Alby and Ophelia’s conversation.</p><p>He shrugged and stuck another fry into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was agreed that since the lights had only been going off once it was dark, they would wait to board the Ferris Wheel until at least nine p.m. Alby, Ophelia, and Leilani would sneak around the back of the ticket booth—like Milo and Caldwell had—whilst Caldwell and Fergus distracted the employee working in the stall.</p><p>“If it’s the same person as last night, they might recognise me,” Caldwell said, a tad anxiously. There was something about abetting breaking the law that didn’t sit right in his stomach: it sank and sat like a stone that he could feel whenever he moved.</p><p>“Wear your hood up with sunglasses,” Leilani suggested.</p><p>“Because wearing sunglasses at night isn’t suspicious at all.” He refrained from kicking something. It was the nerves talking.</p><p>“No need to get snappy,” said Leilani, even though there was a need, a very good need. Because his friends were idiotic and curious enough to sneak onto a ride that could very well end up terribly wrong. He had good reason, thank you very much. If only they would recognise that.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Alby, “Why’re you so uptight? You aren’t the one sneaking on.”</p><p>He huffed out an angry breath and decided to wear his hood up, and stand just so, with his face tilted at an angle. That should do wonders for concealment.</p><p>“You’ll be doing the speaking,” Ophelia stated, like Captain Obvious, “and Fergus can accompany you. Try and keep the employee distracted for as long as you can. You won’t know whether we’ve got on, but after you’ve been at the booth for a good amount of time, you’re free to wander around the carnival to your heart’s content.”</p><p>As if. He really was growing sick of Checker’s Carnival. They’d just about visited every stall at least twice.</p><p>“They’ll come visit me,” Milo assured Ophelia. “I’ll keep an eye out.”</p><p>They bloody well wouldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>They bloody well would, apparently. Caldwell had distracted the man at the ticket booth—the same person as the night before, if the ‘melting into the shadows’ thing was anything to go by—and caught a last glimpse of Alby’s polo shirt, which he’d covered with a jacket but still poked out at the bottom. Caldwell took it to mean fashion wouldn’t be silenced. After he’d said all he could think of to the sullen employee, he and Fergus drifted over to Milo’s stall, where he was busily twirling candyfloss onto wooden sticks with an unmatchable skill.</p><p>He spared a twinkling glance at Caldwell, before going back to presenting a group of tittering girls heaps of pink and blue candyfloss. It was unbearable how charming he could be, and the worst thing was that he <em>knew</em> it. The calm self-confidence was behind every wink, every smile, every conversation.</p><p>“Having fun?” Caldwell asked snidely, once the girls had reluctantly left. There was only so much candyfloss one could buy before it became a bit too much.</p><p>Milo looked away from the machine and his eyes brightened. “I am now, Cece. Did the others get on alright?”</p><p>“We can only presume—it’s too dark to see.”</p><p>“I’d wondered how it felt to be a pioneer.” Milo shook his head, bemusedly.</p><p>Caldwell scoffed. “You hopped onto a Ferris wheel when you weren’t supposed to. You’re hardly a ‘pioneer’.”</p><p>“I now answer to Edmund Hillary, only.”</p><p>Fergus made an amused sound.</p><p>“Hillary, your machine’s smoking,” said Caldwell.</p><p>Milo whirled around and wafted at the smoke with one hand. “It needs more sugar. You want to make some?”</p><p>After a moment’s thought, Caldwell nodded. If only because having Milo near a hot object was simply too much to pass up.</p><p>Carefully, Milo showed him how to pour the sugar into a neat circle, adding the colouring when the sugar started to form wispy fronds. Caldwell opted for a stick, swirling it around the machine in an arc, collecting the delicate candyfloss.</p><p>“You’re a floss giant,” Milo pointed out with a ridiculously pleased expression. He pointed at the candyfloss. “Because you added blue colouring and you like Marv—”</p><p>“Yes, I get it,” said Caldwell, but there was a smile on his face that he tried hard to repress.</p><p>When the lights went out, Caldwell reached out a hand to re-assure Fergus, still not used to the clamouring music. Milo accidently burnt himself on the edge of the machine when he moved away to wait for the lights to turn back on, hissing like a cat and offering a pained smile when his face was visible once more.</p><p>Ophelia, Alby and Leilani joined them a few minutes later, faces red from the exertion of running.</p><p>Ophelia was wearing her bucket hat: as a form of disguise? and excitement was evident in every move she made.</p><p>“How’d it go?” Caldwell asked, leaning on the stall counter.</p><p>She collapsed on the grass next to one of the poles supporting the stall, looking up at them happily. “There’s something on the Ferris wheel. Or, there <em>was</em>, will be, something.”</p><p>“Was that something humans?” Caldwell said, sarcastically. He heaved himself up to sit on the counter, ignoring Milo’s noise of complaint.</p><p>She sent him a withering look. “A <em>package</em>, or something. Tell them, Alby.”</p><p>Alby rose to the occasion. He went into great depth explaining how when they slipped onto the ride, it was mid-cycle, meaning he’d had to hide in a different carriage to the girls when theirs had taken off without him. After hiding out for a couple of minutes, someone had walked across the landing, pausing in front of the carriage he was in and depositing a package.</p><p>“They didn’t see you?” Milo asked.</p><p>Alby shook his head. “They didn’t have a flashlight, and I crawled under the bench all the way against the back.”</p><p>Caldwell grimaced in sympathy. Alby was tall, so that couldn’t have been comfortable at all.</p><p>“But check this.” Ophelia leant forward, eyes lighting with excitement. “After the helicopter came, <em>the package was gone</em>. Vanished. Went on a hike.”</p><p>“It didn’t go on a hike,” Caldwell murmured to Leilani, who shook her head solemnly. “It didn’t have legs.”</p><p>“That we know of.” Leilani shivered.</p><p>Ophelia had worked herself into a tizzy. “That must be why the lights go out! To smuggle that package!” She turned to Milo, practically vibrating. “Was there a package last night?”</p><p>He shrugged, black-and-white employee shirt rustling. “If there was, it wasn’t in our carriage. Are you sure the package didn’t just- I don’t know- fall out?”</p><p>She glared at him.</p><p>“Okay, okay.” Milo held up his hands, backing away slightly. “We can’t jump to conclusions, that’s all.”</p><p>“I agree with Milo,” said Caldwell, and everyone stared at him. “Oh, shut up. We can’t assume something illegal is going on without further proof.”</p><p>“We need to see what’s inside the package, to be completely sure,” Leilani commented. She dug inside her pocket for a cigarette and lighter. She lit the cigarette and took a shaky breath. “Three guesses what we’ll be doing tomorrow night.”</p><p>Fergus spoke up. “We still don’t know how the lights are being turned off, nor who is involved.”</p><p>“It’s got to be something to do with the substation,” Leilani said. “It’s got to be. Where else would you turn an entire town’s power off?”</p><p>“You may be right, but we don’t have a way in.” Ophelia stared at the ground, plucking at trampled blades of grass.</p><p>“And we probably can’t sneak in, can we?”</p><p>She pursed her lips, not looking at Milo. “Probably not.”</p><p>Definitely not. That had to be illegal. And impossible.</p><p>Milo moved to switch the candyfloss machine off. Caldwell checked the time on his phone: ten-thirty p.m.</p><p>“Do you need any help?” he asked, putting his phone away and hopping off the counter.</p><p>Milo looked surprised then pointed to the sugar packets at the back of the stall. “These need to be poured into the container we keep up there. Make sure the lid is on properly after otherwise ants will get into it.” He grinned. “I don’t think customers would like ant-flavoured candyfloss.”</p><p>Caldwell silently picked up the packets Milo had pointed to and started emptying them into the large, tin container with black and white stripes on it. Keeping to the theme, he noticed. Once the sugar was safely locked away, he helped Milo gather the left-over candyfloss in a bag. There was a lot because Checker’s Carnival insisted on making it fresh.</p><p>Once Milo had rinsed out the machine parts which were too sticky to go unnoticed, they left the stall, Ophelia strangely silent.</p><p>Milo tugged at the tarpaulin stashed at the back of the stall, shrouding the stand in black and white. The crowds had died down to whispers and occasional laughs that penetrated the night air, staggering out of the gates and into cramped, warm cars. As it got later, the electric quality to the air shifted to a sleepy contentedness. Far different from the noisy, crazed excitement when the sun was up.</p><p>As he passed a middle-aged couple, Caldwell made a mental note to call his mother at some point. Who knew whether he’d survive whatever plan Ophelia was concocting inside her scarily determined brain. His mother and him were never really the type to send texts every day they were apart, but he knew she couldn’t help but feel a little concerned whenever Ophelia dragged him somewhere. But, he couldn’t help noticing, she didn’t do anything to stop Ophelia. That probably said enough.</p><p>Alby tripped over a tuft of grass and Caldwell laughed. He frowned at him, but it was too dark to make out in the carpark, there being only one streetlight.</p><p>“You lot still hungry?” Ophelia asked, getting into the driver’s seat of Misty. She stuck the key into the ignition, placing her phone in the door and glancing in the rear-view mirror.</p><p>“Uh, yes,” Leilani replied, buckling in. “That’s a stupid question.”</p><p>Fergus nodded vigorously.</p><p>“Right. We’ll hit up that diner Milo showed us.” She glanced over her shoulder as Misty headed down the road, like a bumble bee without the stripes.</p><p>Milo turned in the front seat to grin at Caldwell. “<em>Pioneer</em>.”</p><p>Caldwell scoffed, glancing out of the car window.</p><p>“Ophelia, did you check with your parents if it was okay to stay a couple of extra days?” Alby asked.</p><p>“Yeah, yesterday. They said it’s fine. Have you guys asked your parents?”</p><p>“Mine are fine with it.” Alby tapped a tune on his knee. “They’re glad to have the extra room in the house.”</p><p>“Same,” said Leilani.</p><p>Ophelia looked questioningly at Fergus.</p><p>“He called Mrs Murphy. She said it’s fine,” Caldwell said, slouching on the seat.</p><p>Leilani snickered. “Your grandfather must be over the moon to not have to break up any bomb activity of yours.”</p><p>“I think he must be missing me,” Caldwell defended, stoutly.</p><p>Laughter came from the front seat. “You’re a terrorist as well, are you, Cece?”</p><p>“No,” said Caldwell, as Milo eyed him in amusement. “But with people like you I feel the urge to be. They’re just harmless ones, that I make in the backyard.”</p><p>“He’s very good at chemistry,” Fergus stated, loyally.</p><p>Caldwell was struck dumb by the way Milo’s eyes seemed to twinkle through him.</p><p>“Oh, I bet,” Milo teased, turning back around to face the dashboard. He gestured to the side road Ophelia should take.</p><p>“Caldwell…” Leilani began.</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>They pulled into a parking space directly opposite Up and at ‘Em. Caldwell up and Usain Bolted out of the car, just barely resisting the urge to kiss the diner’s floor as he stepped inside.</p><p>The ferns were still in place draped over the booths, walls and anywhere they could reach. A lone waitress stood behind the counter, with the name badge spelling ‘Em’ on it. Her blue button-down shirt was oddly crisp for such a late hour, as was her bright smile. Stepping closer, he could see her face was lined with fatigue, but the smile didn’t falter.</p><p>“Em? Is that a lucky coincidence, or are you the owner?”</p><p>She pulled out a battered notebook. “I don’t believe in luck.”</p><p>“Owner, then. Could I get a strawberry milkshake please?”</p><p>“Sure thing,” she said, smiling once more before turning to serve Leilani.</p><p>Ophelia sidled up to him, under pretence of looking at the menu board. “Flirting with the waitress, are we?”</p><p>“Owner.”</p><p>“My apologies.” She took off her wire-rimmed glasses to rub her eyes. “Why, exactly?”</p><p>He ignored her.</p><p>Ophelia slid her glasses over her nose. They glinted under the lit-up menu board, like a treasure chest. “Don’t be stupid,” she said, and gave him a pointed look.</p><p>He opened his mouth to reply, but she had already left his side to join Alby and Fergus in the booth.</p><p>“You okay?” Milo asked, taking Ophelia’s spot. “You seem a little down.”</p><p>Caldwell took one look at him and exploded. “Piss <em>off</em>, okay? Stop fucking bothering me all the time. I. Don’t. Like. You.”</p><p>Hurt sparked in Milo’s eyes and he took a step back. “Message well and truly received, Caldwell. You don’t mince your words, do you.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but bit his lip.</p><p>Caldwell watched him leave, something bitter in his mouth. Biting back a flurry of curses, he stormed to the restroom, flinging the door open and disappearing inside.</p><p>“You’re a little bitch, you know that?” he told his reflection in the mirror. It blinked back. He waited a couple of minutes then left the bathroom. When he joined the others at the booth, Milo refused to look at him, eyes trained firmly on the table.</p><p>Caldwell returned the favour and refused to look at Ophelia. Ophelia was oblivious to anything that didn’t start with ‘Checker’s’ and end with ‘Carnival’.</p><p>“How’s your hash browns?” Alby asked Fergus, when Em had visited their table.</p><p>Fergus hummed happily and gave a thumbs up.</p><p>“Ah,” said Alby. “So…”</p><p>“What?” Leilani looked up from her burger, grease coating the area around her mouth like badly applied lipstick.</p><p>Alby darted a glance at Caldwell, who glared savagely at him. “Nothing.”</p><p>A moment passed in silence. Then another.</p><p>“For the love of all things pure!” Leilani blurted out. She slammed the burger back on the plate and fished through its remains. She gestured impatiently at the debris on her plate. It looked like one of Caldwell’s teddy bears, the exact second it was hit by a bomb. “No pickles.”</p><p>“You’re almost finished anyway.” Alby sighed. He seemed like a hundred years old, suddenly.</p><p>Ophelia perked up. “Do you think whoever’s in the helicopter is dropping someone into the substation to turn the lights out? That could work!” She peered around the table, excitedly. “Right?”</p><p>“Right,” said Milo.</p><p>Caldwell wanted to go home, to the lodge, to bed. He stood up.</p><p>“Oh, we’re going?” Ophelia asked, hurrying to stand up. She shared a look with Leilani behind his back. “We’re going. Come on.”</p><p>“—oul mood,” Leilani was whispering to Ophelia as they walked out. “I don’t exactly know what happened.”</p><p>“Just stay out of it,” Ophelia replied. She pushed her glasses up her nose. They paid at the service counter, Em’s smile drooping a little more at the corners, now.</p><p>“Have a good evening,” she said, mustering up brightness from whatever store deep within.</p><p>“You too,” Fergus replied, then ducked behind Caldwell.</p><p>They walked in a solemn procession to Misty: Ophelia lost in her thoughts, Milo staring at the ground, Caldwell glaring at whoever looked at him, Fergus hazy with sleep.</p><p>“Cheerful lot, aren’t they?” Leilani snickered, from beside Alby.</p><p>He gave a wry smile and got into Misty’s backseat. No one bothered to thwart Caldwell’s attempt to claim the front seat; no one was energetic enough.</p><p>They would be tomorrow, though. Ophelia would make sure of it.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Pain Comes In Many Forms, Most So In Mysteries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a little bit of violence towards the end of this chapter. I personally don't think it's very graphic so I won't be changing the rating/warning on this work, but if you are sensitive to content of that sort, please be mindful.</p><p>CW: choking/strangling, but they're alright, I promise! </p><p>If you'd rather skip this chapter, I'll be happy to give a re-cap in the comments.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Mrs Diamandis’s family arrived at eight in the morning to fix the staircase. There was Mrs Diamandis’s eldest son and his family (three children all between the ages of seven and eighteen), the second and third eldest sons (with their wives and four children between them), and the youngest daughter with her boyfriend—“Soon to be husband,” Mrs Diamandis whispered firmly to Caldwell and his friends. No one felt like telling her the daughter and boyfriend could hear what she was saying, or were resultantly stealing awkward glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Mrs Diamandis’s fourth child—Alexandra—didn’t show.</p><p>“Alexandra-Despina is away in New York.” Mrs Diamandis leant in, conspiratorially. “She works at some fancy fashion magazine. Very la-di-da. Can never get her out of her office.”</p><p>“That isn’t the only reason Des stays away,” the second-eldest son, Evangelos, said with a wink, coming over to lead his mother away. She went with him, fussing about something and fluffing out her apron.</p><p>“We didn’t wake you, I hope?”</p><p>Caldwell glanced at the second-eldest son’s wife. “Not at all, Mrs Diamandis. We don’t sleep.”</p><p>Ophelia nudged him on her way to the kitchen. Her shoulder-length brown hair was tied into a ponytail, straying tendrils framing her glasses.</p><p>The Diamandis family weren’t just re-enforcing the staircase. They were taking the entire contraption out of the wall and building a new one. It seemed like a lot of effort in Caldwell’s view.</p><p>“Is any of you a carpenter?” Ophelia asked the room.</p><p>“Goodness, no,” Second-eldest son’s Mrs Diamandis laughed. She was middle-aged and very pretty, with pink cheeks and hair the same colour as Ophelia’s. “Evangelos watched a few YouTube videos, though.”</p><p>“Exactly the same thing,” Alby muttered, watching the sons dismantle the bannister with some trepidation.</p><p>Mrs Diamandis shooed all the younger kids out into the lodge’s back garden, presenting them with plates of cookies and pitchers of lemonade. She gestured at Caldwell to stay away from the plates, rather more aggressively than need-be.</p><p>Leilani appeared to be in her element, dressed in a pair of high-waisted shorts and an old t-shirt, attacking the splintering wood with a rusty pick-axe.</p><p>Fergus had shrunk into himself. He stood in a corner, warily observing one of the Diamandis grandchildren who was propositioning him. The grandchild swung a yoyo by the end of its string, in a vigorous loop through the air that came narrowly close to hitting Fergus in the face. His mother was across the room, oblivious to her child and engaged in a heated disagreement with her brother-in-law over the final colour of the stairs.</p><p>“It should be white paint,” she was arguing, voice raised over the clamour in the lobby.</p><p>The third eldest son clutched a hand to his chest, aghast. “The stairs have always been blue, Paloma. Blue, since I was born.”</p><p>The daughter (with the boyfriend) nodded in support of her brother.</p><p>Paloma turned on her. “How would you know, Cassandra-Madelia? You weren’t alive when he was born. A white colour would open up the place. Breathe a breath of fresh air.”</p><p>Cassandra-Madelia’s boyfriend sent a dirty look in Paloma’s direction. They had apparently got over their awkwardness and were walking everywhere hand-in-hand.</p><p>“You need to breathe a breath of fre—” Cassandra-Madelia’s boyfriend patted his girlfriend’s arm in support.</p><p>Milo stood chatting to the eldest of Mrs Diamandis’s grandchildren. He was laughing at something one of them said, the reverberation ringing out as distinct to Caldwell’s ears as the call to Heaven might sound, even in the cacophonous room.</p><p>Caldwell looked away, a swirling feeling in his stomach.</p><p>“Caldwell!” Leilani called, waving her pick-axe in the air. “Come help carry this wood.”</p><p>He walked over to stand beside her, eyeing the axe with no small amount of distrust. One of the sons handed him a pair of gardening-gloves which would do fuck-all against splinters but looked the part well enough.</p><p>He pulled them on and got to work hauling at the pieces of wood. The eldest grandson joined him a few minutes later, introducing himself as “Jonathan” with a cheery grin.</p><p>“How much longer are you guys here for?” He asked Caldwell.</p><p>Caldwell wiped away the sheen of sweat that had gathered on his forehead. Contemplated ignoring Jonathan. “A few days. Depends.”</p><p>“On?”</p><p>They grasped a particularly heavy plank and dragged it to the side. A little girl was yelled at to get out of the way, bright-pink bandana swirling in the air as she hurried to obey her brother.</p><p>“Stuff.” Caldwell spared a glance at the other boy. “You live in Derny?”</p><p>Jonathan nodded, focusing again on their task. “And you live in Laurel? Like Milo?”</p><p>Caldwell resisted the urge to swallow. “Uhh—no. He’s more of a promiscuous, heart-broken woman than I am. Laurel’s perfect for him.”</p><p>Jonathan looked confused.</p><p>Milo, who’d been called over to help, let out a laugh that startled both himself and Caldwell. He frowned immediately afterwards, pretending nothing had happened and heaving at the wood with more force than was strictly necessary.</p><p>Biting his tongue hard, Caldwell trained his eyes on anything below his hands. He’d messed up, he’d messed up so bad.</p><p>Mrs Diamandis brought out a platter of sandwiches which everyone flocked to, leaving behind tools lying on the floor haphazardly.</p><p>“Cheers, Mrs Diamandis,” Ophelia said, biting into a cucumber sandwich. “These are great.”</p><p>Caldwell hovered awkwardly to the side. No one noticed him; too busy stuffing their faces.</p><p>He slipped out of the door to sit beside the pool. Dipping his feet into the water, he thought about calling his mother again. Or his grandfather—although he could barely answer the house phone, let alone a cell phone. He didn’t know what he’d say. Decided not to.</p><p>Fergus joined him moments later, sitting down quietly.</p><p>“I told Ophelia we’d get food when we head out,” Fergus informed him, sunlight reflecting across the water and over his face. “In case you’re hungry.”</p><p>Caldwell smiled at him. Didn’t feel like talking.</p><p>“You’re such an idiot, sometimes,” Fergus said into the air, putting an arm around him and pulling him into his side.</p><p>When Ophelia called them into the lodge to collect whatever they needed before heading out, Caldwell was strangely silent.</p><p>Leilani raised an eyebrow at him as she rushed past, hair flowing behind her. Two little girls followed closely behind, giggling whenever Leilani would pretend to stop and search around for them.</p><p>“Lani, we’re going,” Ophelia called, already halfway through the door.</p><p>Leilani sighed and told her little playmates to scrat. Picking up her jacket that she’d hung over the lobby desk, she skipped out of the building and across the courtyard to Misty.</p><p>“I’m so sorry we couldn’t stay longer to help,” Alby was saying to Mrs Diamandis’s eldest son.</p><p>“Yes,” Fergus said, softly. He stood half behind Alby. “We apologise.”</p><p>The eldest son gave them a beaming smile. “Nonsense! Thank you for the help, boys. And girls,” he added, gazing after Ophelia and Leilani. “You tell them for me. We got more done with you lot helping than we would have the whole morning with my lot.”</p><p>Jonathan scowled at him good-naturedly. “Alright, alright. At least I wasn’t canoodling with my significant other the entire time like Cass.”</p><p>Cassandra-Madelia discretely gave him the finger from where she was wrapped in her boyfriend’s arms.</p><p>The eldest son sighed and excused himself. His wife waved at Alby and Fergus, who returned it and left—Fergus glued to Alby’s side.</p><p>Inside Misty, a battle was taking place.</p><p>“Move over,” said Caldwell, his brief stint of silence all but forgotten.</p><p>Leilani smirked at him. “Nooo,” she drawled, “I don’t think I will.”</p><p>The reference didn’t go unnoticed, if Caldwell’s face was anything to go by. His face reddened and for a moment he entertained the thought of <em>begging</em>—just because his pride hadn’t gone hitchhiking, got lost, fallen off a cliff, emerged from a river, and flung over a waterfall <em>enough</em>. He was broken.</p><p>“Lei<em>lani</em>. Please.”</p><p>She had the audacity to coo at him. “Look how cute you are all red and cross. He’s fucking adorable, isn’t he, Milo?”</p><p>There was a special place in hell for people who pointed out when others were red or embarrassed.</p><p>Milo froze beside her.</p><p>He valiantly ignored them both, staring out the opposite car window.</p><p>Caldwell wasn’t sitting next to him. Valhalla would freeze over before he ever did that willingly.</p><p>Ophelia shifted in the front seat. “Caldwell and Leilani, cut it out. Cal, I don’t know what happened to put you in such a bad mood—”</p><p>“I do,” Leilani muttered.</p><p>“—but you will not take it out on the rest of us, understood?”</p><p>Swallowing a very bitter, very <em>unswallowable</em> pill of poison, Caldwell shoved into the car. “Yes, Ophelia.”</p><p>“I hate you,” to Leilani.</p><p>Leilani shrugged and fiddled with the lighter in her pocket.</p><p>Fergus lowered himself into the car, pushing Caldwell further against Milo and sending them both desperately apologetic glances.</p><p>The ride to the supermarket was excruciating. Every turn Ophelia made onto a different road would shift Caldwell either into the boy beside him or away, and he didn’t know which was worse.</p><p>“Get your crackers,” Ophelia told him, pulling into a parking space.</p><p>Caldwell had never flung himself out of a car quicker than he did now. He disappeared into the supermarket and headed directly toward the gluten-free aisle. He didn’t feel like picking up random packets to check the ingredients list.</p><p>“What did you get?” Fergus asked him when he got back into the car, tone too curious for comfort.</p><p>Caldwell waved the packet of tortilla chips in the air. “You’re not getting any.”</p><p>Fergus ended up eating at least a quarter of the packet.</p><p>Ophelia glanced in the rear-view mirror and almost swerved Misty into incoming traffic. “Caldwell! You’d better not be eating salsa in my car!”</p><p>Caldwell paused with a chip in the jar. He slowly lowered the jar so it was out of her line of sight. “No, I’m not. You’re smelling something from outside.”</p><p>“I hope so.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “For your sake.”</p><p>The car made an abrupt turn onto a side road. Time seemed to slow, and Caldwell watched in horror as the jar slowly tipped into his lap.</p><p>He cursed, frantically dipping the jar into his lap to scoop up the red condiment.</p><p>Leilani stifled a laugh, bent hysterically in her seat.</p><p>“What do I do?!” Caldwell asked Fergus in a panicky whisper.</p><p>He shrugged back, eyes wide.</p><p>“Ask Ophelia if she has tissues,” Leilani whispered, nodding to the front seat.</p><p>Caldwell gave her a scathing look.</p><p>“Ophelia, do you have any tissues? I suddenly feel the desire to blow upon my nose.”</p><p>Caldwell stared at her as if to say, ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’</p><p>Ophelia observed everyone in the backseat, suspicion rife in her features. “In my bag. Alby, pass them to Leilani.”</p><p>Upon receiving the pack of tissues as if they were a god-send, Caldwell began dabbing at his lap.</p><p>“Pretend to blow your nose,” he hissed to Leilani, while trying to use a wad of tissue to funnel the salsa back into the jar.</p><p>Milo looked like he was in pain, struggling to hide the grin that was capturing his whole face.</p><p>“Out damned spot! Out I say,” he whispered, to no one in particular.</p><p>Caldwell hiccupped a laugh, glancing down at his hands which were covered in salsa. “Who would’ve thought the old jar would have so much salsa in it,” he mumbled, absurdly pleased when Milo’s grin won in his battle of pretence—even if he turned away at the last second.</p><p>Ophelia pulled up beside the substation. “Do you lot want to stay here?”</p><p>When they nodded- some for frantically than others, ahem Caldwell- she gestured to Leilani to follow her.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Caldwell. “Take Leilani and go. We’ll be waiting right here, doing nothing.”</p><p>Fergus nudged him in the ribs.</p><p>“Right.” The girls got out of the car and made for the entrance of the substation.</p><p>Alby watched them go. “They’re so not getting in. There’s a guard by the gates.”</p><p>Fergus leant through the gap between the front seats. He turned the key in the ignition to roll all the windows down.</p><p>“I get it, Fergus,” said Caldwell, who was feeling heaps better now Ophelia and Leilani had left, and he’d filled his stomach. “I’m hot, believe me, we all know.”</p><p>“The smell of salsa is overwhelming.”</p><p>Caldwell made a gesture at his lap. “Yeah, I’m going to…yeah. Find a tap.”</p><p>Alby riffled through Ophelia’s bag. He withdrew his hands and shook his head solemnly. “She doesn’t have a spare pair of shorts.”</p><p>“It’s fine.” Caldwell climbed out of the car, searching the premises for Ophelia.</p><p>Luck wasn’t on his side, and after a couple of minutes of warily stalking around the fence of the substation, he returned to the car.</p><p>Thankfully, the girls were still gone.</p><p>“No tap,” he informed the car, peering through the rolled down window.</p><p>Alby wordlessly passed him a water bottle. He snatched it, ignoring the grins on everyone’s faces, and unscrewed the cap.</p><p>“Looks like you’ve wet yourself,” Fergus was kind enough to point out.</p><p>Caldwell tossed the bottle at his head. “It’ll dry in the heat.”</p><p>When Ophelia and Leilani made it back to the car, he was reclining innocently in his seat, his bucket hat covering his lap.</p><p>“Nothing,” Ophelia groused, getting into the driver’s seat, and thumping the steering wheel with her head. “They thought we were pranksters.”</p><p>Leilani nodded. “The guy at the gate wouldn’t tell us anything.”</p><p>“Shocker,” Fergus muttered to Caldwell.</p><p>“What are we going to do now?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Lani. Go the carnival, I guess.” Ophelia perked up long enough to lift her head from the steering wheel. “Maybe we’ll even find one of the Czechowskis.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They did not find one of the Czechowkskis. In fact, they found a million reasons for why this particular ‘mystery’ sucked. Okay, <em>Caldwell</em> found a million reasons for why this ‘mystery’ sucked- as if he didn’t know in the first place.</p><p>He hated walking around Checker’s so much now, that Ophelia’s grave-digging phase of yester-year seemed almost favourable in comparison. At least that took place at night and not during the scorching heat.</p><p>Because it was still relatively early in the evening, the crowds were massive and clamouring and busy. For every five steps you took across the fairground, you’d bump into at least one rambunctious child scrambling to get to a ride like ants swarming over a sugar cube on the kitchen counter.</p><p>“Wait ‘til it’s dark,” Ophelia instructed, and he wanted to tell her what happened in the dark to annoying girls who wouldn’t shut up about mysteries and sleuthing and investigations.</p><p>“We have literal hours,” he whined.</p><p>“Oh,” she turned to him in surprise, “you used it in the right context.”</p><p>Caldwell glowered at her. “I’m not <em>stupid</em>.”</p><p>Alby hauled Leilani away at the same time Fergus grabbed hold of Caldwell, separating them before Leilani could open her mouth.</p><p>They walked around for the rest of the evening as a group; laughing, arguing- sleuthing. Ophelia may have been the only one to have done the latter.</p><p>“Who’s boarding the Ferris wheel tonight?” Milo peered around the group. They had collapsed on the grass near a picnic bench, snacking on ice cream and popcorn.</p><p>“I’m out,” Alby announced. He swatted at Fergus when he dripped ice cream on Alby’s tan shorts.</p><p>“As is Fergus, and Caldwell, too, I suppose.” Ophelia took off her glasses to wipe at them with the bottom of her shirt. “That leaves me, you, and Leilani.”</p><p>“Different carriages?”</p><p>“Yeah. But we’ll need to be careful to avoid getting caught.” She returned her golden-wired glasses to their position perched on her nose. “If the package placement really is more than a one-night thing, the person placing it in the carriage will be around.”</p><p>“I do not want to around when they are,” Milo commented. “Anything with a concealed package screams dodgy to me.”</p><p><em>Yes! </em>Caldwell wanted to scream. <em>Exactly!</em> Then he went on to say:</p><p>“But the curiosity factor cancels out any previous hesitation.”</p><p>
  <em>Did it now. Did it really.</em>
</p><p>Ophelia took a long sip from her water bottle. “Last time we got on at about nine- doing the same again?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Leilani chucked a piece of popcorn at Caldwell. He retaliated with his ice cream cone. Ophelia ignored both of them, switching intermittently between plucking at blades of grass and taking swigs from the bottle in her hand.</p><p>“Fergus and I will be doing the distracting, then?”</p><p>“And me,” Caldwell said, hastily. He wasn’t getting on the spinning death trap again. At least, not during the evening when it was forbidden. For good reason, too.</p><p>“And Caldwell. Do you know who’s working the booth this evening?” Alby directed to Milo.</p><p>“Nah. We’re only told our own shifts.”</p><p>Caldwell spoke up. “If it’s the same guy from the first time, it may be harder to fool him. He’ll have seen me at least twice asking if the ride’s closed.”</p><p>“He might just think you’re ditzy,” Leilani suggested.</p><p>“Maybe.” Ophelia hummed in thought. “Or maybe he’ll get suspicious and guard the ride more closely. In that case, we’re screwed.”</p><p>It was decided that Alby would distract the booth worker, and Caldwell and Fergus would keep lookout along the side of the booth closest to the ride. That way, if the worker did leave the booth to check on the ride, the others would have fair warning.</p><p>“You might even spot who gets on the Ferris wheel to place the package in the carriage,” Ophelia said, checking the screen of her phone. “Okay, it’s nearing half nine. It’s dark enough by the now to hide the helicopter. Let’s get moving.”</p><p>While Caldwell didn’t always (ever) approve of her methods, he had to admit her determination was admirable. Today Ophelia was wearing a black ensemble that had to have been hell earlier, but masked her rather nicely once the sun had set. She looked a little like Cat Woman, if Cat Woman had glasses, ditched the leather and used a scrunchie to force her hair into a half-up-half-down style.</p><p>“Try not to make any noise behind the booth,” she informed him, stating the obvious as she, Milo and Leilani bled into the dark.</p><p>“Not scary at all,” he whispered to himself, taking up station between the shadowy booth and the Ferris wheel. “Not weird, not spooky, and definitely not <em>wrong </em>in any way.”</p><p>A small voice at the back of his head chimed in with: <em>it could be worse</em>. And it was right; it could be worse. He could be dangling from a rickety bridge over a river filled with snapping alligators, teeth glinting in the water spray, tails thrashing as they lunged up to get a taste of the refined morsel that is Caldwell James Devereaux.</p><p>It could also be a lot <em>better</em>. Better meant a lot of things, a lot of different situations, but in this particular setting it mainly meant not acting as the vulnerable, replaceable lookout. Staying in Maude- in his bedroom watching Marvel marathons and eating bucketloads of Nerds, was <em>better</em>.</p><p>Just when that negative train of thought had dwindled to an end, Caldwell belatedly realised he was alone. Fergus was supposed to be on lookout with him.</p><p>Except, Fergus wasn’t there.</p><p>“Orphan?” he hissed. “Where are you?”</p><p>When he received no response other than the blaring music of the rides filtering past the wooden ticket booth, worry began to set in.</p><p>Worry or fear; either worked.</p><p>“Fergus! You know how scary this kind of thing is. Where are you?”</p><p>Caldwell was nearer to the ride now and looking up he could see a towering metal object, spinning eerily silent for a contraption of its size. A breeze blew through the metal rungs, whistling slightly and heading across the fairgrounds.</p><p>He was of half a mind to hightail it out of there, reposition by a nice, lit-up stall selling hot chocolate and forget about the investigation, but there was a shadowy area right by the landing of the ride that made for a perfect hiding spot. If anyone was trying to scare him, they’d be there.</p><p>It’s important to note that Caldwell was clearly not his right mind, here. Normally he’d never ever dream of actually acting on his curiosity, but now he found himself hastening to the ride, hands bunched in the sleeves of his hoodie. Because Caldwell didn’t hate mysteries. Not at all. He hated the scariness that accompanied them, but he’d rather die than admit that his curiosity could at times rival Ophelia’s.</p><p>So, he set one foot in front of the other, too far from the booth now to hear if Alby was still talking to the worker, too far in his own head to think sensibility. Once he’d reached the Ferris wheel’s landing, heart hammering, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the scene, he stopped short.</p><p>The others were in one of these carriages—or three of them—and Fergus may have just decided to join Alby’s interrogation. But what if he was by the ride, too frozen to move away? Right in the middle of danger?</p><p>A carriage was coming to rest in front of him, the cycle slowing momentarily. Even though there wasn’t supposed to be passengers, the ride still acted as if there were: each spin of the metal frame coming to a stop to allow people on and off.</p><p>Caldwell walked steadily over to the carriage. It was too dark to see much, but he guessed the exterior had the same design as the rest of the carnival: chequered black-and-white paint. His hands brushed against the door to the carriage, fingers feeling the grooves in the wood. The bumps and gouges were spread out in a haphazard pattern.</p><p><em>Like amateur Morse code</em>, he thought.</p><p>He opened the door to the carriage, to check whether someone was under the seat, when a creaking sounded behind him.</p><p>Like a rabbit cornered in a vegetable patch, Caldwell whirled around. There was a shape- distorted and faded- coming towards him, heavy footsteps in time with the staccato of his heart beats.</p><p>There was nowhere to go—and Caldwell wasn’t proud of where his mental reasoning and impulse physical reaction landed him—but into the carriage.</p><p>He flung his body over the side of the carriage and hit the hard floor on the other side. The movement winded him, but he didn’t have time to take a rattling, fortifying breath before the shape towered over him.</p><p>It was a man. Clad in black clothing, if the near-invisibility wasn’t actually a super power, he breathed heavily, a stale sound that expressed volumes of dark anger and surprize.</p><p>Caldwell gulped. Something told him this wasn’t a friendly encounter. The hand which wrapped itself around his neck and hauled him into the air was a deciding factor.</p><p>A strangled scream clawed its way out of his throat. He thrashed, trying to yell out again but all that came out were pathetic squeaks.</p><p>Silence from the man. The carriage jerked, and the man let out a muttered stream of expletives.</p><p>Grasping Caldwell in a strong grip, he stepped further into the carriage as it lifted into the sky to complete another cycle.</p><p>“Quiet or I’ll crush your windpipe.”</p><p>The words registered vaguely in Caldwell’s panicked mind, and he had no doubt the man would do exactly as he said. What hit him, when he’d forced his eyes open was that the man looked just as panicked as Caldwell felt, the anger rolling of his body in waves doing a fantastic job of hiding it.</p><p>He couldn’t cry out, only watch as the carriage lifted higher and higher and the music of the carnival got louder and louder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Mr. Save-Me-From-Feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The CW of choking/strangling carries on from the last chapter, as well as a minor?? breakdown, I guess.  But it's resolved rather quickly in the way only fiction can.</p><p>If you would rather just skip and need a summarised version of the chapter, let me know in the comments. Safe reading :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The black-and-white stalls of the carnival got smaller and smaller in the glowing lights draped around their frames.</p><p>The man had changed their position so Caldwell was in a chokehold at the bottom of the carriage. There was no chance of yelling out, flipping the man off him, escaping the carriage. It was at least a ten-foot drop by now; he wouldn’t survive that. He wasn’t a cat.</p><p>Every few moments, a grunt would escape the man. In between those grunts, Caldwell realised there was a package in his other hand- the one that wasn’t wrapped like a python around Caldwell’s neck and digging in with cruel fingers.</p><p>“S—stop,” Caldwell gasped, desperately clawing at the hand. “Can’t…breathe.”</p><p>A harsh sound. A laugh?</p><p>“Should’ve thought about that before you got nosy, meddling kid.”</p><p>They shifted on the wooden floor so Caldwell was looking up at the sky and his assaulter’s face. The only facial features the man had uncovered were his eyes, but even those were half-hidden by darkness. Their only sign was abusive dullness. No twinkling at all.</p><p>Despite his situation, Caldwell couldn’t help but choke out, “What’s in the package? Is it a substance? Is that wh—”</p><p>A sharp cuff to the side of his face cut him off.</p><p>Caldwell wanted to tell the man that was rude; extremely so, but his throat was closing up and his cheek was throbbing and he felt like crying.</p><p>Now that sense had been knocked into him so hard it winded him, he remembered how much he hated investigations. Ophelia was damn wrong.</p><p>Ophelia!</p><p>Was she on the Ferris wheel? If so, surely she had heard them. His yells hadn’t been nearly as loud as a kidnapee would’ve hoped for- they verged on the quiet whimpering of a new born baby—but someone could’ve picked up on them. The employee in the booth. A family wandering away from the centre of the carnival. A dog off its leash.</p><p>At this point, Caldwell was desperate for anything, any sign of help. As soon as he got out of here, he was handing in his notice to Ophelia. His fragile heart couldn’t take it.</p><p>The man was probably hoping to wait for the helicopter to pick up the package, reach the fairground, then go back to whatever shady business he no doubt partook in. But Caldwell had seen the package. There was no way the man, if he was in his right mind, would let Caldwell simply walk off now. This wasn’t a meet-and-greet.</p><p>More of a meet-and-punch, which sounded a lot like a menu choice at a quirky, alternative diner. Caldwell’s mouth watered.</p><p>Music like a disconnected entity floated up to the carriage, wrapped itself around the both of them, suffocated them. If it was getting louder…</p><p>He could try and wriggle out of the man’s grip and land some sort of hit. But that would be difficult since Caldwell could feel angry eyes trained on every move he made.</p><p>The best thing to do was wait it out, he decided. That was made doubly clear when his eyes caught on the man’s biceps. Even through his clothes they were massive. Caldwell would make it to heaven before escaping this carriage—something he wasn’t terribly proud of, but he’d always been slim and muscle-less and this man could probably punch him into the right throne beside Jesus before Caldwell in any way over-powered him. In the words of Lizzo: the truth hurts.</p><p>It stung: just a little.</p><p>When the lights eventually switched off, they didn’t. Because there was a commotion beneath the Ferris wheel before the carnival blacked out.</p><p>The man and Caldwell shared a panicked glance which would’ve been touching if not for the circumstances, and Caldwell felt his attacker loosen his grip as he peered over the side of the carriage.</p><p>The man cursed—and really, Caldwell half-wanted to ask for his name, because it was getting tiring to keep referring to him as ‘the man’, and he felt like they’d reached that stage in their relationship by this point. </p><p>“Any of your little friends know where you are?” the man asked menacingly, revealing a golden tooth.</p><p>Caldwell gestured to that hand was still around his throat.</p><p>Eyeing him suspiciously, the man released his grip further.</p><p>“No,” Caldwell rasped, barely able to breathe let alone speak. A lack of oxygen will do that to the best of people. “But I hope I’m wrong.”</p><p>The man cuffed him again, urging him to be quiet. There was a desperate edge to his voice.</p><p>The music from the carnival rides was so deafening by now, it was only a matter of time before it was lights out and helicopter overhead.</p><p>Caldwell longed for the day two weeks ago when he sat across from Ophelia in the diner back at home in Maude. If he could time travel back, he’d have a very different answer to giver her when she told him about Checker’s Carnival. <em>Non</em>, French for absolutely fucking not.</p><p>He’d lived and he’d learned, but now he was going to die at the hands of a maniac. The Circle of Life, from Disney Studios’ the Lion King (1999).</p><p>The Ferris wheel suddenly jerked to a stop. Caldwell didn’t remember this being part of the routine. Evidently, Muscle man didn’t either, because his grip tightened and he swore viciously.</p><p>“There’s people surrounding the wheel,” he said, harshly. “You’re so dead, kid. Wait ‘til the Boss hears about this.”</p><p>Caldwell wasn’t sure which he disliked the sound of more. The Boss, probably. Whoever he was.</p><p>“I…don’t k-know what you’re talking about,” he replied, bravely. If his mother saw him now, she’d freak. He still hadn’t called her. He really should do that.</p><p>“You won’t get me down,” Muscle man called out, fury lacing each word.</p><p>Caldwell thought that was a rather strange thing to say, then he realised the man wasn’t looking at him, but somewhere over the side of the carriage.</p><p>“This is Police. We order you to stand down.”</p><p>That explained the flashing lights.</p><p>That didn’t explain how the Police got there.</p><p>The Muscle man was growing angrier and angrier, but the anger was now fuelled by agitation, which was a dangerous catalyst. He replaced the hand around Caldwell’s neck with his foot, grinding down as a warning when Caldwell made to squirm away.</p><p>By now the lack of oxygen was causing his vision to go spotty, even in the dark. He thought he could feel the carriage begin moving, the Muscle man shouting when he realised that package probably wasn’t going to get delivered that evening, hear the maniacal tune of the demented Merry-go-round.</p><p>Just before he blacked out completely, the man moved off his throat completely, giving him precious time to heave in gasping breathes.</p><p>Caldwell lay at the bottom of the carriage, gasping, feeling like his windpipe was crushed. The world was dissociated down here, muted, as if watching activity from the bottom of a pool. Shapes appeared to move in slow-motion, voices reverberating and low-pitched. Everything was slow and dream-like and drifted just beyond the touch of his fingertips.</p><p>He came to after a few minutes, realised the carriage was near the ground when Muscle man tried to make a run for it: desperately leaping over the side of the carriage into the law-enforcing arms of a policeman. Caldwell couldn’t see the policeman taking kindly to Muscle man’s recent occupation of interest.</p><p>“Caldwell!” someone screamed, and his head snapped up. He knew that voice, those voices.</p><p>Clutching onto the bench, he hauled himself off the floor so he could see over the carriage’s partition.</p><p>The sight that greeted him caused such a tidal wave of relief to surge through his body, he almost fell over.</p><p>Ophelia, Milo and Fergus looked like they were barely being held back by a couple of policemen, eyes wide with worry and arms struggling to get out of their holds. Leilani was sat on the ground a few feet away, a policewoman hovering over her. Alby was talking to another policeman, tone high-pitched and grating, body movements restless, agitated.</p><p>“Caldwell, there he is, there he is!” Ophelia cried out, face melting in relief. She tried to tug her arm out of a particularly burly policeman’s grip.</p><p>Caldwell just wanted to get out of the carriage and as far away from it as possible. With the help of the policeman who had been talking to Alby, he stumbled out, almost tripping in his haste to get to…</p><p>The policemen guarding Ophelia, Milo and Fergus stepped back.</p><p>Caldwell flung himself at Milo, into his arms, and promptly burst into tears.</p><p>“Crying is good,” said one of the policemen, “so we know he’s in shock.”</p><p>Milo shifted so both arms were secure around Caldwell’s body, breathing deeply to calm himself.</p><p>“You’re okay,” he said, next to Caldwell’s ear. His voice was tight. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”</p><p>The wound up feeling in Caldwell’s body was loosening, gradually, and his throat hurt, but he wouldn’t have changed anything about that exact moment. He vaguely remembered Fergus, and made a note to hug him next… At some point. Later.</p><p>“We’re getting you to bed,” Ophelia told him, as he was led away. “Are we speaking properly to the Police tomorrow?”</p><p>Alby nodded, still shaken. His shirt was wrinkled in every spot imaginable. “They said to rest up and come down around noon. I’ve already spoken with one of them, anyway.”</p><p>“Are you really okay?” Caldwell glanced to the side, at Leilani’s anxious face.</p><p>“Neck hurts. I’m fine.”</p><p>“It’s already bruising,” Milo said, peering closely at his neck.</p><p>“Like a peach,” said Leilani.</p><p>Ophelia told her to shut up and not upset anyone.</p><p>When they got to Misty, Milo detached himself from Caldwell long enough to place him gently in the car.</p><p>Fergus immediately curled up to Caldwell’s other side, and Alby took the front seat next to Ophelia. She held up a hand when Leilani started to speak.</p><p>“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow, when Cal’s feeling better.” Even so, she was vibrating with adrenaline, every cell in her body itching to do something.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he told Ophelia. She twisted in the driver’s seat to fix him with a stern look. “Really! I can’t sleep, now. I need to talk or do something.”</p><p>“That’s the shock speaking,” Alby observed. “When my sister, Lily, got into a car crash with my ma last ye—”</p><p>“Was it very scary?” Leilani asked Caldwell.</p><p>Milo tightened an arm around him and glared at her. “Don’t upset him. You might send him into…what’s the word?”</p><p>“Death,” said Ophelia.</p><p>“Relapse?” Caldwell suggested. “Don’t worry checkers, I’m mentally stable.”</p><p>Leilani snorted, then clapped her hand over her mouth when she realised she was supposed to be acting sympathetic.</p><p>Misty left the parking lot and headed to the lodge along the dirt road that led to the main route. They’d driven this so many times Caldwell was sure the route was burnt against his eyelids. Though no one would admit it, he knew they were all shaken. He couldn’t stop reaching up to touch his neck.</p><p>Ophelia was battling internally with something. Clear in the way her hands would tighten around the steering wheel, loosen, then tighten again. Like a heart pumping warm blood.</p><p>“Why were you on the Ferris wheel in the first place, Caldwell?!” Her voice was stretched, and he finally saw how worried she’d been. That was the thing about Ophelia and her mysteries: she got caught up them, whisked along with the excitement. The danger grounded her for a moment in time before the next mystery came along. A cycle that had never ended up like this before- the worst that happened until now was getting chased in a graveyard.</p><p>“I thought Fer—I thought somebody needed help on the landing. He came up behind me.”</p><p>“We heard you scream, once. That man hurt you to keep quiet, didn’t he?”</p><p>“Stevie,” Milo supplied. “I’m sure it was him, the bastard. He works the booth.”</p><p>“Stevie, then, incapacitated me too quickly for me to do much. The carriage lifted with us trapped in it. Where were you guys?”</p><p>Leilani made a noise of frustration. “We hadn’t got in a carriage yet. Ophelia wanted to see whether there was a specific carriage the package got put in. We heard someone climb on, but it must have been you—we knew as much when you yelled. Me and Milo had just finished checking whether every carriage was empty and were waiting for the package to get deposited before choosing a carriage. Then Ophelia pointed to the other guy who was holding you up and freaked. Your carriage lifted before we could do anything, so we sprinted off the Ferris wheel and across the carnival to get the police. I thought Ophelia was going to ground us in a ditch, the crazy b—”</p><p>Ophelia interrupted, “We drove to the station and got a cop car to follow us back to the carnival. I’m surprised they even believed us—we were all shouting at them, and Fergus was half in tears—”</p><p>“I was <em>not</em>.”</p><p>“—anyway, they came and stopped the ride. An-”</p><p>“You’re missing the best part!” Leilani screeched. “You’ll never believe what happened, Caldwell. You know the package?” He gazed at her witheringly. “Well, when that Stevie-guy made a break for it, he chucked it off the side of the ride, hoping to retrieve it at some point, probably, but his aim was actual shit—I mean, it’s <em>embarrassing</em> how bad his aim was, because the package hit me square in the face. I went down, the package split open, and he launched himself straight into hand cuffs. It was <em>beautiful</em>.”</p><p>“Drugs,” said Alby. “That’s what the police think was in the package.”</p><p>Caldwell could feel himself heating up.</p><p>“Now, Cal,” Ophelia said weakly, peering at him in the rear-view mirror, “calm dow—”</p><p>“Calm down,” he replied incredulously. “<em>Calm down</em>? You told me this wouldn’t be dangerous. And that’s the problem with your little fascination: you don’t take anything seriously. This was all fun and games, wasn’t it, until I wound up at the bottom of a carriage with some man’s foot on my neck. I kept telling you I hate this kind of stuff and you won’t quit it. He almost crushed my wind pipe—”</p><p>“It seems to be working fine, now,” Leilani mumbled. Milo leant over the seat and thumped her in the shoulder.</p><p>“—so listen when I tell you that you won’t be dragging me into this kind of thing ever again. Gosh, Ophelia.”</p><p>She slumped in the driver’s seat. “No, you’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry, Cal. I’m really sorry that you got hurt and I’m sorry you feel like I don’t listen to you, or take you seriously.” Ophelia’s eyes were trained on the road ahead of her, and she swallowed heavily.</p><p>They pulled into the parking lot beside Up and at ‘Em. Caldwell detached himself from Milo like he’d been burned. Enough of that. He hung back to sling an arm around Ophelia, even though he was still angry. (At who, he couldn’t really say.)</p><p>They walked into the diner together. He was suddenly starving- everyone appeared to be, not least Leilani and Fergus who had four burgers between them. White privilege—but like, the gluten-eating kind. Gluten privilege. He’d kill for a burger.</p><p>He stuffed a couple of fries into his mouth and Milo smiled tentatively at him. Caldwell looked away. He preferred the grin, fuckity-fucking-fuck.</p><p>“Slow down, Oliver Twist,” he said to Leilani, who was practically inhaling her food. At least take the time to appreciate the burger if you’re blessed enough to eat it. Now that he looked closely, he could see a red mark which spanned the left side of her face. It was faint, fading into the back drop of her tanned skin.</p><p>“As if you’re not stuffing your face,” she retorted.</p><p>That was neither here nor there.</p><p>“Peppa pig,” he said, instead.</p><p>“Don’t worry, guys,” Leilani looked around the booth, laying a reassuring, greasy hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. “The usual Caldwell’s back.”</p><p>Ophelia shrugged off her hand. “Thanks be to heaven. Cal, you get to call in a favour. You’ve earned it.”</p><p>He smirked into his fries.</p><p>“Ew, not like that.”</p><p>“I’d certainly hope so,” said Leilani darting a glance at Milo. “That would be awkward.”</p><p>A tense silence descended upon the table, wherein Caldwell tried desperately not to look at anything or anyone. He thought he’d succeeded fairly well, then he made the mistake of looking up from the table top and into Milo’s eyes. They didn’t have their usual twinkle, but Caldwell’s stomach still dropped. So hard he could feel it pooling around his feet in a sticky, flustered puddle. The eyes lowered, and still he couldn’t breathe.</p><p>“I’m getting another milkshake,” he blurted, falling out of the booth and stumbling to the service counter. Em didn’t appear to be working that evening, and a man in his mid-twenties stood under the bright menu board.</p><p>He peered at Caldwell expectantly.</p><p>“Uh…” Caldwell’s brain was still fried. “Um…”</p><p>A small, barely-there smirk played around the man’s mouth. “You okay, bud?”</p><p>“Fine.” Caldwell was so red he felt like his skin was blistering. “Could I get a strawberry milkshake, please.”</p><p>“Pay now or after?”</p><p>Caldwell made the walk of shame back to the booth to retrieve his wallet from Ophelia’s backpack. Everyone observed him in varying stages of amusement. He didn’t trust himself to glance to where a certain individual sat. This wasn’t him; this pathetic and embarrassing and shaky version of himself was not who Caldwell wanted himself to be. <em>Humiliating</em>.</p><p>“I’m having a rough day,” he told the server behind the counter, when he’d returned.</p><p>The man snorted and made a half-hearted gestured at Caldwell’s neck. “I’ll say. You get beat up? By someone’s mouth?”</p><p>For goodness sake.</p><p>“That is none of your business, A<em>lon</em>zo. Go and make my milkshake.”</p><p>Alonzo grinned and saluted him.</p><p>“We live in a society,” he began, settling back into the booth. His friends ignored him. Even Fergus. When had he fallen so far?</p><p>A thought suddenly occurred to him.</p><p>“Alby. If you were supposed to be distracting the employee at the ticket booth, how did he come and terrorise me?”</p><p>Alby paused in his conversation with Milo. “We were only supposed to talk to him for a few minutes. We thought Ophelia and the others would’ve got on the Ferris wheel by then, so we left. He must have slinked away after that.”</p><p>“He’s always been a little…standoffish,” Milo remarked. His nose ring glinted under the lights overhead when he tilted his head slightly. “He wasn’t as friendly as Erica, or Charlie. They have stalls next to me.”</p><p>“And by friendly you mean not at all?”</p><p>He grinned and nodded at Leilani.</p><p>Deep olive ferns trailed down the back of the booth, tickling Caldwell’s ear. They reminded him of liana vines, in tropical rainforests, which he’d learnt about in Geography last year. These were smaller. Daintier.</p><p>The walls of the diner were still their amalgamation of gray-blue and dark wood. It felt rural and serene. Almost fresh despite the late hour. Caldwell felt anything but fresh. The second milkshake didn’t help.</p><p>“Not that this isn’t absolutely cracking, but can we make tracks. I’m tired and sore and Leilani is annoying me.” Leilani was stealthily pouring salt into his shoe. She replaced the salt shaker on the table-top and sent him a dirty look.</p><p>It was comical how fast Ophelia leapt out of her seat. Probably due to the last vestiges of guilt festering in her little sleuthing heart. “Of course. You were even sort of polite. You must be feeling terrible.”</p><p>He didn’t deny her statement, let himself be led out to the car park and into the car. He didn’t even say anything derogatory about Misty’s paintjob.</p><p>Although there was fatigue settling deep in his bones, Caldwell felt cathartic as well. They’d solved the mystery, hadn’t they? He’d let himself be properly, suitably amazed tomorrow.</p><p>Clearly it hadn’t resonated with Ophelia either, on account she hadn’t transcended her human form. It was only a matter of time. Caldwell hoped he’d escaped the planet by then.</p><p>He would need to escape the car first.</p><p>“I’m not sitting next to him,” he hissed in Fergus’s ear. “You seriously have a death wish if you make me do anything of the sort.”</p><p>“Okay,” Fergus squeaked. “I’ll just move, shall I?”</p><p>“Yes,” Caldwell agreed, “that would be in the best interest of all parties involved.” The thing is, would it? He’d been lying to himself for long enough. Practice makes perfect and Caldwell was an expert.</p><p>Miraculously, the staircase was completed when they arrived at the lodge. So it might be leaning a little more to the right than strictly necessary, but the paint was gloriously smooth and…different colours? It was hard to tell in the dark.</p><p>“Thank goodness it’s up,” Leilani commented. “I was expecting to have to pole vault to the first floor. That would <em>not</em> have been pretty, let me tell you.”</p><p>“Neither of us doubted you.” Caldwell shoved past her on the stairs. “It is! It’s half white, half blue. That’s charmingly Dr-Seuss-like.”</p><p>“Leilani’s the Mayor of Whoville,” said Milo, who was suffering under the delusion that Caldwell was speaking to him in the first place.</p><p>Caldwell sniggered and decided to put their differences aside for the moment. “I see that. Ophelia’s that vulture from Horton Hears A Who.”</p><p>Milo honest-to-God cackled.</p><p>“Shut up!” Ophelia hissed, in a bad mood for some reason. “It’s late. Get to bed.”</p><p>“Okay Vladikoff, gosh.” Caldwell sprinted to the pink bedroom to escape her advancing punch. It soon became apparent that was a bad idea because gulping breaths was torture for his throat and he nearly keeled over outside the bedroom door. Lesson learned.</p><p>And if he had to crawl onto Fergus’s mattress to get a full night’s sleep, well, nobody said anything about it. Least of all, Caldwell. All the fears that materialised during every mystery Ophelia investigated had been shapeless nightmares, blurry and obscure. But now every single one materialised, wearing a single face with hands strong enough to crush oxygen.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Art of Avoidance And How To Avoid Successfully (Part 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up felt like slipping into a cold bath—it wasn’t the action that startled you, but the feeling that instantly accompanied it. As soon as Caldwell opened his eyes, his brain searched and latched onto the first feeling his body offered out of unconsciousness. Pain.</p>
<p>A pain that was pushed into crevices around his neck, massaged roughly into the skin. It didn’t throb so much as ache deeply, like a necklace of bruising. His hands floundered around momentarily, grasping at the air for relief.</p>
<p>Finally, he sat up. The mattress was empty besides him, covers strewn like a flipped omelette. Fergus must have gotten up already.</p>
<p>Caldwell could breathe—thankfully—and if he didn’t make any sudden, strenuous movements, his neck didn’t paralyse him. He still felt like weeping, though. His mother would have something to put on it. She always did—even if it was water, it would help because she was the one attending to him.</p>
<p>He slipped on the last of his fresh t-shirts- a white one with spiderman leaping on it- and made for the bathroom. After leaving the room to find the others, he vowed to scavenge some breakfast. The girls’ bedroom was empty, beds made neatly—even Leilani’s.</p>
<p>Laughter sounded down the corridor, away from the newly constructed staircase. Caldwell slunk deeper into the lodge, along the corridor bright with saturated sunlight. Everything was white and fresh, and it improved his mood slightly.</p>
<p>He stopped outside a closed door, taking a deep breath to centre himself. It only hurt when he swallowed after. More laughter came from behind the door, and he heard Leilani’s cackle which she always made when she thought she’d said something witty.</p>
<p>Not bothering to knock, Caldwell swung the door open and stumbled inside. It hit someone’s foot, and they hissed.</p>
<p>Fergus sat up from where he was sprawled on his back on the floor. “Caldwell! You’re up.”</p>
<p>“Clearly,” he muttered, closing the door behind him and heading straight to the one bed in the room.</p>
<p>There were two bodies on it already, but he didn’t take any notice, planting himself face first into the comforter. The mattress shifted, and a hand rubbed his back, smoothing his t-shirt.</p>
<p>“How are you feeling, Cal?” Ophelia’s voice sounded above him.</p>
<p>Caldwell grumbled into the comforter.</p>
<p>“Lift your face, Cal. You’re drooling on the blanket.”</p>
<p>“The fact he’s up is a good sign, right?” Leilani sounded immensely relieved. If he’d been one tenth less grumpy, he’d have commented on it. As it was, the throbbing kept him silent.</p>
<p>A body shifted beside him. “Alby, did they say what time we had to be at the station?”</p>
<p>Alby, voice curiously rough, replied, “Noon. The officer I spoke to last night wanted us to formerly write down the details so they have something official to deal with. Shouldn’t be anything too strenuous.”</p>
<p>“I’m still half in denial that this happened. Like, we’ve never had an investigation end up with an actual criminal, and actual criminal activity.”</p>
<p>“No,” said Caldwell, muffled by the blanket, “we’re usually the ones doing the criminal activity.”</p>
<p>“Hush, you,” said Ophelia. “It’s the motive that counts. Besides, it ended up a good thing. Wait ‘til Jason hears about this.” She cackled joyously. “I’m going to get TV remote privileges for a month.”</p>
<p>Caldwell peered morosely into the blanket. “I’m getting grounded for a month.”</p>
<p>“I’ve probably lost my job,” Milo added, and the sound almost made Caldwell leap out of his skin.</p>
<p>“W-whose room are we in?” he asked, and really, his neck was killing him enough. He didn’t <em>need</em> guilt and embarrassment atrophying the remains of his mortal body. Someone up there had a seriously sadistic sense of humour.</p>
<p>He felt it before he heard it.</p>
<p>“Mine,” Milo said, dipping his head and lowering his voice. “You better not be drooling on my comforter, Cece.”</p>
<p>Caldwell sat up hastily.</p>
<p>He was going to deny it, or say <em>Hi</em>, or something, but the words got caught in his throat. Settling for dropping to the floor beside Fergus, wordlessly, felt like a bitter defeat, but a necessary one.</p>
<p>Milo watched him from the bed. He looked tired, perhaps even anxious. There were more tangles than curls in his hair than usual, and his eyes had a strange shine to them. At least the nose ring was still metal, still normal. “Are you okay? And don’t say ‘fine’ to shift the attention off you. Stevie really roughed you up last night.”</p>
<p>He suddenly stood up. They all looked up at him. “Stevie hurt him,” Milo said, hands fluttering by his sides, “really hurt him. We have to do something. We need to find him right now, shake him up right back, tell the police—”</p>
<p>Ophelia was by Milo in an instant, holding him secure and forcing him to look at her. “Stevie’s in custody. He’s not going to hurt Caldwell again, that we can be sure of. Last night was a blur: the police have already taken in a statement about Caldwell’s condition. I made sure of it.”</p>
<p>Milo shook, so slightly Caldwell was sure only Ophelia and himself picked up on it. “I didn’t even do anything at the time—I should’ve done more, hit the bastard myself. I was—”</p>
<p>Occupied with an armful of sobbing Caldwell, Caldwell remembered, privately. The blush crept up from his chest and flooded his face like spilt watercolours.</p>
<p>“You couldn’t have done anything more,” Ophelia continued softly. On the floor, Leilani made a quiet sound of agreement. “They have pictures of Caldwell’s neck and when we go down later, they’ll take his statement. Everything will be alright, okay?”</p>
<p>Except, it wouldn’t, because Caldwell was now so physically upset by his behaviour in the diner that he couldn’t breathe.</p>
<p>Milo seemed to believe her, sinking onto the bed, adamantly refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.</p>
<p>There were certain things that took people a while to recover from. Breaking a favourite mug, falling off a ladder, apprehending an apparent drug ring. Even now, Caldwell could feel the hands around his neck and he willed the memory away. It was going straight into a box labelled: ‘Do not dwell on, on pain of death’. The bruises would fade eventually.</p>
<p>At least Ophelia would be too shaken up to start any new investigations any time soon. If there was some positivity to be found in this situation, mark that with a ginormous red X. Add a couple of hearts for good measure.</p>
<p>They ended up getting takeaway and eating it in the girls’ room.</p>
<p>“They would’ve called my ma,” Alby mentioned, halfway into his Chinese. “All of our parents, actually. It’s a wonder we aren’t being hauled back home as I speak.”</p>
<p>“Heading home isn’t a bad idea,” Fergus said quietly.</p>
<p>Caldwell’s noodles suddenly felt too slippery, too salty, too unappetising. “Yeah,” he said, and everyone looked at him. He looked at his noodles. The easy way out.</p>
<p>Leilani slurped noisily around her chopsticks. “What are you going to do, Milo?”</p>
<p>“I don’t even know if I still have a job. It’s fine, Ophelia,” he added, when she opened her mouth to no doubt issue a barrage of apologies, “I was the one who invited myself onto your investigation. Taking full accountability is something we do in this house. Or temple. <em>My</em> temple, because our bodies are temples and all that.”</p>
<p>Caldwell wanted to tell him to shut up.</p>
<p>“My guess is that Checker’s will be shut down for a bit, to be under close supervision.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As it was, Milo was right.</p>
<p>“We’re all being let go,” he told everyone when he trudged back to Misty after a conversation with Mr Czechowski, which was rather more one-sided than the dictionary definition of the word, and involved a downtrodden, kicked puppy of an employee. “They’re still working out our severance pay.” He folded himself into the car and ran a hand through his hair. “I feel much like Jesus would have after he’d multiplied those fish and received absolutely nothing in return.”</p>
<p>“That’s blasphemous,” Alby said.</p>
<p>“The Bible could have just left out the bit where he got paid,” said Leilani. “The editor had a serious workload already, without trying to fiddle about with Jesus’s bank details. That’s unnecessary information.”</p>
<p>“<em>Hardly</em>—” Caldwell began, turning in his seat and gesturing for the radio volume to be lowered at the same time. Ophelia told him to can it and shifted the topic to recent events.</p>
<p>“So, they’ll be phoning my parents when we get back to Maude tomorrow. I can already see Jason’s smug face.” She jerked the car rather harshly into a right turn.</p>
<p>The police had told them the drug ring was being taken care of- a fact Ophelia appeared to have trouble accepting. While she bemoaned the law enforcement system, Caldwell was privately being consumed by an emotional dilemma. He hadn’t had it this bad with Julie. Which, thank Heavens, but also: really, really embarrassing and soul-crushing because he’d had a chance this time (see: wishful thinking) and he’d rather splendidly fucked up in a way that was solemnly reminiscent of General Custer.</p>
<p>At least he didn’t have to pretend anymore. Whatever there had been at the start of the investigation, two weeks ago, had dissipated suddenly and viciously. And Caldwell wasn’t expecting to <em>miss</em> it so much. He had dignity, damn it! If he was upset he wasn’t being singled out anymore, or being given stupid nicknames, or having that someone who always built on his jokes with the careful precision of one who constructed the pyramids, then he was going to take it to the grave. Or back to Maude. Which were, when he thought about it, sort of interchangeable. So, no, he was emotionally crippled and it didn’t feel good.</p>
<p>Even Leilani picked up on it. Leilani, who could pick out the slightest insecurity in a person and pounce on it like a ravaging tiger, but often forgot what colour Misty was, or had difficulty naming Caldwell’s parents.</p>
<p>“So,” she began, slinking an arm around his shoulders and grinning like a shark, “Caldwell, Caldwell, Caldwell.” He hastened a glance at the front seat. “Any plans when we get home <em>tomorrow</em>? Oh, I forgot, you don’t <em>have</em> anybody special to be hanging around! What if I told you—”</p>
<p>He gave her a horrified look and immediately slapped his hand over her mouth. “What are you doing?” he hissed, willing himself not to pass away in the backseat.</p>
<p>Leilani haughtily removed his hand and whispered harshly, “Saving your ass. You can thank me later. Milo!” She turned to the front seat, raising her voice. “What are you going to do for the rest of the Summer?”</p>
<p>Milo sighed the sigh of a sorrowful man, if the sorrowful man was a disconsolate teenager with unruly hair and really pretty eyes, and Caldwell <em>needed</em> to get his head out of the gutter. “Head home basically penniless—a prodigal son, if you must, but with better looks—”</p>
<p>“You can get another job,” said Caldwell. “Easily.”</p>
<p>Milo stuttered to a halt and stared out of the windscreen window.</p>
<p>Ophelia sent Caldwell a pitying look in the rear-view mirror.</p>
<p>He pursed his lips and wrangled the thoughts buzzing about his brain. “I just meant—Uh, there’ll be loads of work available. You’d have to be an idiot to not get another job.”</p>
<p>Leilani muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘you’re the idiot’, and resolutely fixed her eyes on an object beyond the car.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Milo said eventually. Voice even quieter. “I’ll remember that.”</p>
<p>His death was bloody, bloody, bloody all over the backseat. He was drowning in it. Fergus was clinging to his corpse like a life raft.</p>
<p>“Laurel’s not far from Maude, is it?” Alby commented.</p>
<p>Milo shrugged. “About thirty minutes. They’re both around the same distance from Derny, I think.”</p>
<p>“That’s brilliant!” Leilani tapped an enthused staccato on the headrest in front of her. “We can meet up! Half an hour is nothing. You won’t be getting rid of us that easily, Milo. You’re chained to Mystery Incorporated for life.”</p>
<p>Caldwell was chained to his own feelings.</p>
<p>“Mystery Incorporated,” he said, glaring at Leilani, “is closing up shop. Breaking up like One Direction—” Fergus made a pained noise, “—being decommissioned. We are not doing anymore mysteries, investigations, <em>stakeouts</em>. The risk is too high. Have you no conscience? One of our own was brutally injured—that was me, by the way,” he added, “and enough is enough.”</p>
<p>“Au contraire,” said Milo, who still didn’t know when he wasn’t wanted, “One Direction is on a hiatus. They were very clear about that.”</p>
<p>Fergus melodramatically grabbed his chest. Caldwell frowned at him out of the corner of his eye.</p>
<p>The car passed a farmer’s stall selling strawberries. The fruit was a bright red blur tumbling out of its containers as they sped past. Like car lights through a window on a rainy evening. Colour trying to escape.</p>
<p>Ophelia turned onto a smaller road, flicking the indicator smoothly. Soon, the lodge came into view. She parked and took the keys out of the ignition.</p>
<p>“What bugs me about this whole case is the easiness.” She half-heartedly thumped the steering wheel. “The Police took over which is all great, and then what? Does the public get told? How are they going to bring in the whole cartel?”</p>
<p>“They’ve been working on other things that connect to the cartel,” Alby said. “All we did was help them fill in one puzzle piece. We can’t do anything else.”</p>
<p>She thumped the wheel again, accidently hitting the horn and making Fergus’s soul depart from his body.</p>
<p>“We could have a last swim?” Leilani suggested.</p>
<p>Milo flung his door open. “Absolutely.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Mrs Diamandis,” Alby called as they traipsed into the lobby.</p>
<p>Mrs Diamandis looked up from where she was sweeping the floor, apron a light blue against her yellow dress.</p>
<p>“How you doing, dearies?” She emphasised each word with a brisk stroke of the broom. “Up to anything exciting? Speaking of exciting, my youngest daughter just got engaged! Last night, by the swimming pool. We’re thinking of putting a plaque to commemorate. Isn’t that wonderful?”</p>
<p>Caldwell remembered meeting the youngest daughter. He also remembered how Cassandra-Madelia and her boyfriend went half the morning not uttering a single word to each other. They had been interacting—making out counted as interacting—but still.</p>
<p>“That’s great, Mrs Diamandis!” Ophelia said, beaming at the older woman. “We hope she’s very happy.”</p>
<p>Mrs Diamandis nodded sagely, bending to retrieve a dustpan. “I don’t want to take credit, but I definitely played a large role in procuring their eternal happiness.” She hummed nonsensically to herself.</p>
<p>They left her to her sweeping, Ophelia promising to inform her of the time they planned to depart the next day.</p>
<p>“It’s a wonder she didn’t see your bruises,” Fergus told Caldwell as they climbed the stairs. “They’re exceptionally difficult to miss.” He shook his head in disbelief, a few strands of hair falling across his face.</p>
<p>Caldwell snorted. “Another of her, frankly, <em>multitudinous</em> children is about to get hitched. She’s transcended her human form. Nothing is of higher consequence than that.”</p>
<p>“Still. It’s weird she has no idea of what happened last night.” Fergus swung open the door to their room and stepped inside. They’d made their beds and stashed the clothing thrown haphazardly around the room back into its respective bags. Or namely, Caldwell’s bag, seeing as Fergus was the paragon of politeness, and Alby was simply too anal about his outfits to fling them where dust could get into the material.</p>
<p>“The police will inform the public when they see fit to do so,” Caldwell said, plopping onto his bed and sprawling out like a starfish. “To have that power…”</p>
<p>Ophelia bustled into the room, typing furiously on her phone. “You will not tell anyone, Caldwell. The police were very clear about that. They will call your parents when we get back, they will tell the citizens of Derny, the—”</p>
<p>Caldwell rolled his eyes, but made a placating gesture. “Alright, alright. Geesh.”</p>
<p>“I wonder who was desperate enough to get Stevie working with them,” Milo remarked. “No offense meant, but he isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Or even the carnival. He got caught so easily.”</p>
<p>Leilani arched a brow. “And you know someone better for the job, do you?”</p>
<p>He grinned. “Hey, I’m a poor, lowly high school graduate. I’ve got needs. Just kidding,” he added hastily, when Ophelia levelled him with a scorching frown, “I absolutely did not just joke about replacing Stevie in the drug ring. You must’ve heard me wrong.”</p>
<p>Caldwell let out a muffled snort before he could stop himself.</p>
<p>“Anyway,” Milo continued, cheeks the barest hint of pink, “I’m not suited to a life of crime. I cried when I got detention the first time.”</p>
<p>Even Alby sniggered at that.</p>
<p>“As did Caldwell,” said Leilani. “Oh, wait, I forgot. No, he threw a pencil at Mr Birchwood.”</p>
<p>Caldwell didn’t have an excuse, not really. “I was aggressive back then,” he staunchly defended himself. “I’ve mostly grown out of it.”</p>
<p>“You grew out of it the minute you made him a ‘Sorry for launching my mechanical pencil at you head’ card. From scratch,” she added, smirking at the gobsmacked expressions opposite her.</p>
<p>“You made a ‘sorry’ card?” Milo directed to Caldwell, looking like he was two seconds away from dying inside.</p>
<p>“A mechanical pencil?” Alby said, incredulously. “I thought it was a regular one. Mechanical pencils are highly unreliable, Caldwell.”</p>
<p>Caldwell didn’t deign addressing the former inquiry. “I had such airs as a child. Fortunately, they made me into the well-rounded individual I am, today.”</p>
<p>Ophelia made a noise that sounded halfway between a snort and a cough.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Fergus stood up and made to manoeuvre around the bodies strewn across the floor.</p>
<p>“I’m going to get a cookie,” he announced, glancing at Caldwell for support.</p>
<p>“We ate, like,” Leilani checked her phone dramatically, “three hours ago.”</p>
<p>Fergus smiled politely. “Approaching four. Cal?”</p>
<p>“Coming,” he said, prying himself off the comfortable bed. “Don’t wait up, guys.”</p>
<p>“Bring a few back!” Alby called, as the door closed behind them. “And don’t eat any!”</p>
<p>They started down the corridor—the cold, white walls punctuated by the odd gaily painted door.</p>
<p>Caldwell felt eyes trained on him the moment they set foot on the staircase.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Fergus raised an eyebrow. It was a peculiarly expressive gesture, seeing as it involved only about a quarter of his face, but he mastered it well: the brow arching perfectly, inquiringly, in a ‘you don’t fool me, fool’ fashion.</p>
<p>“You’re gonna have to use your words, buddy.”</p>
<p>Caldwell was a master of deflection. Except for when he bowed out after one stern look and raised voice. Fergus was coming on strong by employing just one of those means. That was where he went wrong.</p>
<p>“If you don’t want to talk about it,” he began, tone firm, and, uh-oh, raising slightly on every other syllable, “we don’t have to. But, Cal, you’re going to hurt yourself.”</p>
<p>Stomping extra loudly on each step, Caldwell pursed his lips. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p>A sigh came from his right.</p>
<p>“<em>Okay</em>,” Caldwell blurted out, words knocking into each other like a falling trail of dominos. “Imighthaveacrushonhimbutit’snotabigdealandit’llgoawayifIignoreit.Idon’twanttogethurtagain.”</p>
<p>“What,” said Fergus.</p>
<p>They’d reached the end of the staircase. At least, Fergus had. Caldwell had stopped on the middle step, and was breathing harshly.</p>
<p>“I may like someone,” he said, willing himself to calm down. Deep, soothing breaths, oh yeah.</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>“—and it’s so, so annoying and debilitat—What?!”</p>
<p>“Okay,” said Fergus again, neutrally. “We don’t have to talk about it.”</p>
<p>Caldwell sputtered. “But—!”</p>
<p>“If it’s better to ignore it, then we’ll never speak of it again.” Fergus flashed a bright smile at him and disappeared into the kitchen.</p>
<p>He’d been played. Like a pair of cheap, wooden maracas. <em>That little shit</em>.</p>
<p>“But I don’t know what to do,” he whined, following the other boy into the large, homely kitchen.</p>
<p>It was alive with scents and flavours so pungent one could almost taste them in the air. Mrs Diamandis was bustling about a massive sink, arms deep in soapy water.</p>
<p>She turned to them, cheerily, features lighting up like glowing embers in a campfire. “You come to help me, boys?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Mam,” said Fergus, moving into a position beside her. He gestured at Caldwell to put his hands in amongst the soap suds.</p>
<p>“The washing machine is busy at the moment, spinning my curtains. I have to do this load by hand.” She nudged material into Caldwell’s hands, and he looked down at a child’s T-shirt. “Scrub that nice and good, dearie. Like this.”</p>
<p>He hastened to comply. The water was lukewarm on his skin.</p>
<p>On the other side of Mrs Diamandis, Fergus was dipping a pair of socks into the water, a faint smile playing about his mouth at their stripy pattern.</p>
<p>“What were you sounding pent up about?” Mrs Diamandis asked quietly, focused on the task before her.</p>
<p>Caldwell hesitated, but the water was soapy and soothing, the atmosphere warm and gentle, the company soft and listening. Fergus was a genius.</p>
<p>“I sorta, maybe like this person—”</p>
<p>“Milo.”</p>
<p>Caldwell’s eyes widened. He swore he could hear Fergus’s muffled giggle on the other side.</p>
<p>Mrs Diamandis kept scrubbing at some leggings. “Dearie, if you like him, the least you can do is show him respect by using his name.”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, <em>Milo</em>,” he continued. “But I messed up kinda badly. It’s awkward now. I shouted in his face.”</p>
<p>“He thinks you don’t like him?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Caldwell said, miserably. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s annoying as fu—I mean, yes, he’s irritating to be around sometimes, but that sometimes is not actually a lot at all. The sometimes when he’s funny and kind outweighs the sometimes when I feel like clouting him over the head, so yeah. I like Milo.”</p>
<p>The T-shirt was pretty clean by now. Mrs Diamandis took it out of his hands and replaced it with a tiny pair of overalls.</p>
<p>“Does he like you?” At his frown, she amended, “Does he <em>still</em> like you?”</p>
<p>“Desperately,” said Fergus.</p>
<p>Caldwell leant around Mrs Diamandis to direct a quelling look at him. “You don’t <em>know</em> that, Fergus!”</p>
<p>“Caldwell! He listens to every single thing you say. Just about explodes with happiness every time you laugh at his jokes, cares about you even though you yelled in his face to leave you alone.”</p>
<p>Caldwell glanced at Mrs Diamandis. “That could mean anything.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then shook her head. “Or not.”</p>
<p>“Talk to him,” she advised. “Really talk to him. Now wash those quickly. My daughter-in-law needs them for tomorrow.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The last chapter was too long to add in one go, so it is posted in two parts, this being the first. If you're here, thank you for reading this far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Catharsis, And How To Reach Such A State (Part 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tomorrow. They were leaving tomorrow. Caldwell blamed the linear nature of time. And the infallible determination Ophelia showed whenever she set her mind to something.</p>
<p>“I told my mother we would reach Maude no later than three o’clock,” she told them as they floated about the pool. “That means she’ll have cancelled her afternoon appointments, donned her pearls that Dad got her from the Indian ocean while at the Seychelles, and will be standing outside the front door at two-fifty-nine. You will not make me a minute late. She hasn’t been this attentive since my Nativity play in the third grade.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know whether to be happy or sad for you,” said Milo, who’d found a blow-up tube and was presiding over the water like the British Navy.</p>
<p>Ophelia grinned wryly at him. “I’ve learnt to accept any attention she gives me. It’s rare, and it’s fluctuating.”</p>
<p>“Caldwell’s love life,” Leilani whispered to Alby and Fergus.</p>
<p>Fergus splashed at her because Caldwell was too busy pretending not to be hurt.</p>
<p>“Well, I, for one, won’t be receiving a fanfare on returning home,” Milo commented. “My sisters were only too happy to be getting rid of me.”</p>
<p>Caldwell thought gloomily of his parents’ reactions when he told them about the shattered window he’d caused with his bombs. This was kind of like that, only with less windows and more bruising. The outcome was the same: danger, blah blah, injury, etc. Derny was nice this time of year, he decided. Pleasant weather, freedom, no grounding. He was <em>so</em> getting grounded.</p>
<p>“You have sisters?” Leilani glanced over at Milo. “Were they the ones to get the good looks, humour, talent, strength—”</p>
<p>“No need to carry on, we got the gist, thank you.” He spun around in his tube, unleashing a wave of water at her. “We’re triplets.” At the expectant pause, he sighed and said, “I’m the youngest.”</p>
<p>Which made a world of sense regarding the self-confidence issue. Definitely OD’d on parental attention. At least, that was Caldwell’s—admittedly, rather amateur—diagnosis.</p>
<p>“Imagine having that many siblings.” Leilani shuddered.</p>
<p>Alby shrugged and then ducked under the surface. “It’s not that bad,” he said, when he’d come back up. “Lily and Rosie get on. And Rosie and Holly get on. Lily and Holly never get on. Unless they’re bribed to play together. Then they get on, but it has to be when Rosie’s not around.” At Leilani’s raised brow, he shrugged again. “It’s a whole system.”</p>
<p>“Jason and I got on,” Ophelia commented, swirling a hand through the water. Her swimsuit was white with vertical blue stripes, and it contrasted with her eyes. “Especially when he let me have a go on the ziplines we built around the house. Our babysitters never lasted long.”</p>
<p>Leilani snorted. “You got babysitters? My mom would leave me with instructions to make a sandwich for dinner and to not touch the stove.”</p>
<p>Caldwell stared despondently across the pool, into the horizon. “I still get babysat.”</p>
<p>Rather than sympathising with him as Caldwell had wished, Ophelia snorted. “That’s because no one is stupid enough to leave you alone with your chemical kit. Which, I’m certain, has more than a few illegal substances.”</p>
<p>“They’re not illegal,” he replied, nettled. “Just hard to get.”</p>
<p>“Literally, I’m sure,” Ophelia said, with good humour, “because the majority of them are locked up in a nuclear base in North Korea.”</p>
<p>He decided to go for a little swim.</p>
<p>And possibly drown, which would be infinitesimally favourable than trying to face Milo at some point.</p>
<p>Which is why he stayed in the pool hours after everyone else had gotten out.</p>
<p><em>Can’t talk to anyone when you’re under the water</em>, he thought, and mentally congratulated himself. Stopped just short of giving himself a pat on the back. Overkill. But not unwarranted.</p>
<p>He got out to eat because he wasn’t a <em>savage</em>, then dived back in with all the grace of a new-born lamb. Water went soaring. Alby’s burrito splashed. Shouting. Threatening. Laughing (Leilani and Milo). Apologising (Fergus, because Caldwell refused).</p>
<p>Eventually, everyone headed indoors—Fergus with a meaningful look over his shoulder. Ophelia did pause to consider him strangely, then shrugged and raced Leilani to their room.</p>
<p>The evening was as mellow and warm as all its predecessors: golden in some places, shadowy in others. The problem, he decided, with being alone was that you were never truly alone, and rather less distracted by vibration and noise and movement. The human brain is a busy, whirring thing, and that meant it latched onto any internal thought or feeling without mercy, and was reluctant to let go. The dwindling sunlight created a haven for contemplation.</p>
<p>Which is why he was seriously considering swift and painless death by the time Leilani joined him outside for a cigarette.</p>
<p>“Is the water warm and cowardly in there?” she asked around a puff of smoke, pointedly looking at the deep end.</p>
<p>“It is, as Goldilocks would’ve stated, ‘just right’,” Caldwell retorted, and refused to sink beneath the surface.</p>
<p>Leilani paused with the cigarette inches from her mouth, staring up into the sky and its clouds.</p>
<p>“We got carried away with the adrenaline of it all,” she said finally. Her lip gloss sparkled with each word. “And I wanted to say I’m sorry. For getting caught up in it. When you went missing, I was so scared, Cal. I was—terrified.” Her voice broke. “I never want to be that scared again. There was all this darkness and bodies and none of them yours—So if that means never investigating again, then I’m fine with that. I won’t research another news report or urban myth if I get to know we’re all okay and—”</p>
<p>He’d been inching closer to the steps, and she launched herself at him, cigarette drifting to a sodden, smoking end under the water’s surface.</p>
<p>“I’m okay,” he whispered into her hair. She choked on a laugh, clinging to him.</p>
<p>“If you tell anybody about this, I’ll end you.”</p>
<p>Caldwell smiled and moved them further up the pool steps, arms tightening around her. She was still damp under the t-shirt she’d thrown on over her swimsuit. “You do a good enough job of pretending to not care that no one would ever suspect anything.”</p>
<p>Leilani released her grip on him, put some space between them. “I sometimes wonder if perfecting that the first time was a mistake. Burying feelings deep down makes you do stuff like <em>this</em>.” Her nose wrinkled.</p>
<p>“Hugging me is a heaven-sent gift from The Creator, himself,” Caldwell claimed, and wrapped his arms around his torso. “See?”</p>
<p>Flashing him a cheeky grin, she pretended to re-consider. “Yes, of course. I can hear the celestial choir now.”</p>
<p>“That’s the aftereffects. They’re very potent.”</p>
<p>A beat passed, and then:</p>
<p>“Cal…”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You guys would be so cute together.”</p>
<p>“Nuhuh, no. This talk has not given you licence to dig into my business.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be stubborn and miss this opportunity. He’s hot, you’re…okay. He’s nice, you’re…okay. It’s perfectly balanced! As all things should be.”</p>
<p>Caldwell groaned. “Don’t quote Marvel at me, Leilani. That’s fighting dirty.”</p>
<p>“There isn’t any other way to fight.”</p>
<p>Perhaps she was right.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fergus sat on his mattress and looked down at Caldwell. Not physically, as the mattress was on the ground, but Caldwell felt quelled all the same in the face of such austerity. It was the raised brows.</p>
<p>“Enjoy your swim,” Fergus passive-aggressively unlocked his phone without checking the time, “at nine p.m.?”</p>
<p>Caldwell swanned into the room, replying as breezily as one could through chattering teeth, “You could’ve auditioned for the role of the guy from Split. You know, the one with the multiple personalities.”</p>
<p>“<em>Caldwell</em>,” Fergus hissed. “You have to talk to him.”</p>
<p>Wrong. Caldwell didn’t <em>have</em> to do anything except pay taxes and die.</p>
<p>“I was simply enjoying the water on a warm evening, <em>Fergus</em>.” He moved further into the room, reached for his bag to dig out dry clothing. “Not everything has to be about Milo.” And damnit, now he was thinking about him again.</p>
<p>Fergus pursed his lips, sat in the middle of his mattress with his arms folded like a petulant child.</p>
<p>“You’re a petulant child,” Caldwell told him. “Wait! No, I didn’t mean that, sorry. I’m just, I—”</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” said Fergus. “You’re emotional at the moment.”</p>
<p>Caldwell nodded along, then froze and glared at him. “<em>No</em>!”</p>
<p>“We’re meeting in the girls’ room. Do you want me to wait?”</p>
<p>Halfway through putting on his Marvel hoodie, Caldwell gestured at him to carry on, face obscured by material.</p>
<p>After he’d finished dressing, he stashed his bag back under the bed. It was unsettlingly empty under there—compared to his bed at home. That had anything and everything: relics and homework and shoes. Checking that he’d switched off the light, he left the room.</p>
<p>It was only a few steps between the two rooms, and Caldwell could hear Leilani’s cackle vibrating through the wall and leaking out into the corridor. It seeped under the door like water in a sinking boat, bathing everything with bright noise and light.</p>
<p>“Up for a game of UNO, Cal?” Ophelia asked, settled against the side of her bed.</p>
<p>Leilani didn’t bother for his response, creating a new pile of cards as she dealt, face morphed into a caricature of seriousness. Her mouth twisted up slightly at one corner, eyes tracking between each card that left her hands.</p>
<p>“Are we playing the One rule?” Caldwell voiced into the room, plopping down in the circle next to Alby. “I think we should play the One rule. It adds extra spice.”</p>
<p>“Basically, whenever someone lays down a one, the direction changes,” Ophelia explained, at Milo’s questioning look. “And then if the next card is blue, someone’s nominated to show all their cards. Spoiler alert: Fergus is ruthless at this game when given the means.”</p>
<p>Fergus smiled unashamedly, gathering up his pile of cards the way one would a baby. “If we decide to be spicy, then I’m going to be spicy.”</p>
<p>A few goes around the circle, and Alby let out an exasperated huff of breath. “Seeing as the person to my right is determined to be a little cheat, can I switch places with someone?”</p>
<p>Caldwell scoffed. “Sharing is caring, Alby.” He slammed a red seven onto the middle pile, unleashing an unearthly shriek of, “UNO! Ha! Suck on that, losers.”</p>
<p>“You haven’t won yet,” said Leilani, a frown forming on her face.</p>
<p>“I vote Caldwell gets eliminated for poor showmanship,” said Alby, who was, at the end of the day, just plain bitter and mean-spirited.</p>
<p>Caldwell glared at him. “Don’t be a sore loser.”</p>
<p>“Still haven’t won,” Leilani muttered.</p>
<p>Fergus reached across the circle to paw at the red seven. “I agree. Boot him and his red seven.”</p>
<p>Caldwell shrieked and slapped at Fergus’s hands. Sitting between Leilani and Ophelia, Milo observed with an expression rapidly morphing from bewilderment to amusement.</p>
<p>When Fergus made no move to retract his jealous, conniving hands, Caldwell slammed his body onto the pile of cards and curled over it, protectively.</p>
<p>“I’m not getting up until everyone proclaims me the winner,” he stated boldly, mistaking Milo’s knee for Fergus and kicking out reflexively.</p>
<p>“I’m <em>so sorry</em>,” he gasped, sitting up immediately.</p>
<p>Leilani cackled, taking the opportunity to snatch the cards and fling them into the air.</p>
<p>“<em>Leilani</em>,” said Ophelia, exasperatedly.</p>
<p>“<em>Caldwell</em>,” said Milo, “it’s fine. But you should know all of that was for nought, because there is no way you’re winning.” He stared pointedly around the room.</p>
<p>Alby was cowering away from Fergus and Leilani, who each had a handful of cards and were smacking each other silly. Ophelia was watching them calmly, having moved to her bed, out of reach.</p>
<p>“Let’s go,” said Milo, and Caldwell was too blindsided by the fact that he’d extended an arm to help him up, to respond other than letting Milo haul him out of the room.</p>
<p>When they were in the corridor, Milo stopped. Put a couple of feet of space between them. “I know you said to leave you alone, and if you really want to go back you can, but you seem to have forgotten you’re still injured, and I was scared you were going to get more hurt—”</p>
<p>Caldwell swallowed. Now or never, right?</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” he said, looked everywhere but the anxious brown eyes that were trained on him. “We could sit by the pool?”</p>
<p>Milo seemed surprized—it was in the tilt of his head, like a puppy, and the slow smile that stole across his face. “Yeah, we can do that. I’m not jumping in to save you, though.”</p>
<p>“Why would I fall in?” Caldwell turned to head for the stairs. “Wait, no, don’t answer that.”</p>
<p>Milo answered, anyway. “You have this talent of antagonising people until they have no choice but to resort to drastic measures.” He clicked his tongue. “I didn’t mean that to be—It was just a joke!” He turned wide eyes to Caldwell, who wanted to laugh at the resemblance to a startled Bambi.</p>
<p>“Are you saying I antagonise you?” Caldwell teased, taking the last few steps with a bounce. “Because, I gotta say, it seems to be <em>you</em> winding <em>me</em> up most of the time.”</p>
<p>Milo winced, the tell-tale sign in the tightening of the shoulders. “I did warn you.”</p>
<p>They reached the poolside, sat down to dip their feet in the water.</p>
<p>“I know,” said Caldwell. “It’s fine, though. Now I know why.”</p>
<p>If it was even possible, Milo’s shoulders tightened more. He looked at once wary and hopeful. “Why?”</p>
<p>Caldwell grinned cheekily. “Because you’re compensating for something. It’s obvious.” Oh fuck, what was he doing, “People with a lot going on downstairs don’t feel the need to wind other people up.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Milo, and huffed out a startled laugh. “Oh, you’re so wrong, but you get points for surprizing me.”</p>
<p>He swirled his left foot in an arc, creating a tiny wave, listening to that laugh and pretending it didn’t do something funny to his stomach.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean it,” he said in a rush, all at once eager to get it out, to light the paraffin and watch everything he said in the diner burn in a gleeful rush of chemical and smoke.</p>
<p>Milo studied the surface of the water, then tilted his head to look at Caldwell.</p>
<p>“I was irritated and tired and confused—you were something for me to take out my feelings on. I didn’t truly mean it then, and I certainly don’t think it now.”</p>
<p>Milo smiled, then. “It’s okay. But know that I’ll never be someone’s catharsis. Get annoyed at me, pout at me, whatever. I don’t mind. But don’t ever discard me like I’m not worth your real thoughts or feelings. Like a cheap, temporary antidote.”</p>
<p>Caldwell was going to do something completely reckless in the next ten seconds if—</p>
<p>“You kinda reminded me of Anger from Inside Out in that moment at the diner,” Milo commented, as if their previous conversation hadn’t occurred. “All fuming and bright red, looking up at me with actual fire behind each word.” He smirked. “Perhaps that can be your superpower.”</p>
<p>“Right,” said Caldwell. “As if you aren’t as completely obnoxious as Joy. No, don’t try to defend yourself: you bulldoze over everything with your constant ‘People live to amuse me’ attitude.”</p>
<p>“Not people, you.” Milo raked a hand through his curls. “No, no need to splutter; it’s true. Unless it’s not, and you’re willing to prove it to me, somehow? But be warned, I find you <em>very</em> amusing.”</p>
<p>Now was not the time to get shy and self-conscious.</p>
<p>“I suppose I <em>am</em> quite funny,” Caldwell allowed, willing the back of his neck to return to its normal colour. He shifted his hoodie to be safe.</p>
<p>A smile was directed his way, and gosh he was pathetic if it felt like a prize of some sort. Bronze, Silver, Milo’s smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>~</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bye Mrs Diamandis! Thanks for having us. Your lodge was lovely to stay in.”</p>
<p>Mrs Diamandis wrapped Ophelia into a bone-crushing hug. Leilani sniggered, then was next to receive similar treatment.</p>
<p>“It was my pleasure, dearie. You were joys to have around. You too, Milo.” She scooped up a surprized Milo and proceeded to squeeze the wind out of him. “If you’re ever in the area again, make sure to pop in. It’s a shame you’re all leaving earlier than expected.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Ophelia sheepishly.</p>
<p>Alby strode through the courtyard to deposit his and Fergus’s bags into Misty’s boot. His yellow shirt clashed terribly with the car’s paintwork—a peculiar development seeing as they were the only two objects within a five-mile radius <em>remotely</em> the same colour.</p>
<p>“Who’s picking you up?” Ophelia wiped her glasses on her shirt and glanced at Milo.</p>
<p>He was standing by the doorway of the lodge, but moved nearer to Caldwell. “My sister. She said her prices are the same as an uber, though. I’m considering hitchhiking.”</p>
<p>“No one in their right mind would pick you up,” said Caldwell, without thinking.</p>
<p>Milo ignored him in favour of brushing their shoulders together.</p>
<p>“We can wait until she gets here,” Leilani told Milo, walking towards where Alby was standing guard over the bags. “Need any help, Alby?”</p>
<p>He levelled her with a fierce glare that was only somewhat dampened by his attire.</p>
<p>Misty was the only car in the parking lot, and it was just as well: she took up two parking spaces and was very ugly. The last point wasn’t really crucial to her being the only car—Caldwell was just very opinionated.</p>
<p>As the sun rose in the sky, casting rays of light over her bonnet, bits of grit and mineral in the ground began glinting. The effect was dazzling: a kaleidoscope of natural lighting, both saturated and de-saturated simultaneously.</p>
<p>“We should do a last check of the rooms,” Alby commented, for the third time that hour. Caldwell wanted to smack him for the second time that hour.</p>
<p>Leilani looked up from where she was lounged against a pillar in the courtyard. “Cal?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Feel like inciting violence?”</p>
<p>“Only all the time, <em>yes</em>.”</p>
<p>“No,” said Milo. “It’s too early. At least wait ‘til noon.”</p>
<p>Alby nodded gratefully at him.</p>
<p>Leilani scowled.</p>
<p>A screeching noise sounded, like tyres on tarmac, and Milo sighed. “That’s my sister.”</p>
<p>Sure enough, a few seconds later a car hurtled into the parking lot, a horrendous smoking coming from the tyres.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’ll make it home in that?” Alby asked Milo, eyes wide.</p>
<p>Shrugging up a shoulder, Milo sighed long-sufferingly. “Nothing in life is certain, Alby, old chap.”</p>
<p>The door to the smoking Subaru Impreza swung open, a tall girl stepping out. Her eyes focused on Milo immediately and she shook a manicured finger at him.</p>
<p>“Milo! You better be ready to cough up muchos in compensation for this ride. I had to get up at half seven. <em>Half seven</em>.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Caldwell said, excitedly, “I use that word too: <em>muchos</em>.”</p>
<p>The girl walked across the carpark and stopped in front of them. She peered at Caldwell appraisingly. “Laura,” she said, sticking out a hand forcefully. Caldwell wasn’t sure whether she expected him to shake or kiss it. “I’m Milo’s sister. Better in every way.”</p>
<p>“Caldwell,” he replied, deciding on shaking. A few seconds later, he was regretting his decision: her grip was a vice, but stronger. “And I very much doubt that. He makes candyfloss.”</p>
<p>“Made candyfloss,” Milo muttered, sadly.</p>
<p>Laura’s eyes gleamed. “So, <em>you’re</em> Caldwell. Damn, you <em>are</em> cute.”</p>
<p>“Laura,” Milo said, sounding strangled.</p>
<p>She glanced at him, unrepentant. Pulled him into a hug.</p>
<p>“You got your stuff? Traffic’s a nightmare.”</p>
<p>He snorted and reached for his bag. “What would you know? You drive ten miles over the speed limit everywhere.”</p>
<p>“I don’t,” Laura assured Caldwell.</p>
<p>She was pretty, in a sharp way. Sleek brown hair where Milo’s was curly, smaller eyes, more severe cheekbones.</p>
<p>“See you, Milo,” said Ophelia, throwing an arm around his side. “Thanks for all the help. We’ll definitely stay in touch.”</p>
<p>“Don’t get into any trouble without us,” Leilani clamoured, tripping over Milo’s bag and scuffing it.</p>
<p>He laughed and shook his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, it wouldn’t be the same without Cece’s constant whining.”</p>
<p>Caldwell flushed, stomach dropping unpleasantly. Fergus nudged against him, but remained silent.</p>
<p>“Right, well, I had a lot of fun hanging with you guys.” Milo stretched a hand behind his head, ran it through his hair. “Fergus, keep playing your piano—” Fergus grinned— “Alby, keep your sisters in check—” Alby nodded, solemnly— “and Caldwell, uh—”</p>
<p>“I forgot something,” Caldwell blurted, surging forward and grabbing his wrist. He dragged Milo through the courtyard and behind a stone wall, Milo dropping his bag in the process.</p>
<p>“Caldwell,” he began, and was knocked into the wall from the force of Caldwell’s kiss.</p>
<p>It was a split-second decision, a moment in time that spanned between extremities, catalysed by desperation and fear of missing <em>this</em>, a moment caught and preserved in amber, where they took hold of the opportunity presented to them and <em>pulled</em>.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Caldwell said into the kiss, pressing closer and closer. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn.”</p>
<p>“You were perfect,” Milo whispered, dragging him in. “Cece, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you flushed to the roots of your hair, the first time I teased you. And I wanted to do <em>this</em>—” he kissed the moles by Caldwell’s mouth, by his top lip, a kiss for each mole.</p>
<p>At last they paused, Milo’s back against the wall, hands cupping Caldwell’s face and keeping him close.</p>
<p>“You have to text me,” he said.</p>
<p>“I planned on it,” Caldwell said, leaning in to brush their lips together, “in between getting up the nerve to do this, and wallowing in self-imposed misery.”</p>
<p>Milo chuckled breathlessly; eyes blown wide. Caldwell supposed he wasn’t much better.</p>
<p>A catcall sounded from the parking lot.</p>
<p>“We have to get going. But I’m not letting you go until you promise me we can keep doing this.”</p>
<p>Taking a minute step back, Caldwell whispered, “I promise,” and flushed to the roots of his hair.</p>
<p>“Oh, no,” Milo laughed, retrieving his bag and swooping in for a last kiss, “you can’t get embarrassed <em>now</em>. Save it for when we step out into the parking lot.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Caldwell gulped, feeling faint. “What have I just <em>done</em>?!”</p>
<p>Condemned himself to a lifetime of ridicule.</p>
<p>They rounded the pillar and walked across the carpark.</p>
<p>Laura took one look at them and burst into laughter. “I’ll see you at family dinner, Caldwell. Milo, get your butt in the car. I have a date with my bed to get to.”</p>
<p>Leilani was surprisingly calm; until Caldwell realised she had her phone out and was recording everything, like paparazzi with A-list celebrities.</p>
<p>The group of friends watched the Subaru hightail it out of the carpark, Milo leaning out of the passenger window to wave at them. Then Ophelia turned to him and smirked. “You solved that on your own, did you?”</p>
<p>“No,” Caldwell replied, resisting the urge to grin like a maniac. “I had a lot of help.”</p>
<p>He squeezed Fergus’s arm.</p>
<p>They piled into Misty one-by-one, Alby snagging the front passenger seat.</p>
<p>“In the grand scheme of things,” Caldwell began, sandwiched between Leilani and Fergus, “it wasn’t really a <em>mystery</em>, more like a—”</p>
<p>“Cal?” Ophelia peered at him in the rear-view mirror. “Shut up.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And...that's it! All mistakes are my own--although I tried to edit as best I could. I really enjoyed writing this, so if you've made it this far, thank you for giving my little project a chance. Feedback is very much appreciated: kudos/comments/constructive criticism--anything goes.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First chapter done and dusted :) Please leave a kudos/comment! Feedback is appreciated. I wrote this a while ago, so it'd be refreshing to view it from a new perspective.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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